


Games

by Sarah Problem (SarahProblem)



Series: Come With Me [16]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Complete, Established Relationship, M/M, Married Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 22:58:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15278058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarahProblem/pseuds/Sarah%20Problem
Summary: Sent to explore a vast, unmeasured pocked of emptiness, the crew of the Enterprise find themselves with a lot of downtime. Luckily, Starfleet has given them a new recreational system to test out. With Scotty's help, McCoy, Uhura, and Chekov find themselves getting into a bit of mischief.





	Games

 

 

 Games

Sarah Problem

 

 

 

 

 

_"The more complex the mind, the greater the need for the simplicity of play."_

\- James T. Kirk

(The Original Series - "Shore Leave")

 

 

 

 

Doctor Leonard McCoy fumbled with the stick shift of the Xexterin 500, trying to get a feel for the gear. With the shifter knob hot and hard in one hand, McCoy could feel the vibration of the tires on the asphalt through the steering wheel in the other. The pedals under his feet were warm with the heat from the engine. The view through the car's dirty and dust spattered windshield gave glimpses of the other car's bright colors as they zoomed past him. The last of the old-fashioned Earth racing cars to run on a liquid combustion engine, McCoy's low, sleek car was quickly being outpaced by the others on the track.

He clutched and tried to shift and winced when the grinding of gears and stuttering of the engine told him he'd hit the wrong sequence.

Again.

The car tremored under his clumsy shifting as he came upon the tight curve. Panicked and trying to keep from hitting anyone, he took the curve too fast and a fraction of a second later hit the wall. The metal of the car jerked and twisted around him as his car rolled. Flames burst into existence around him as his car skidded, top down, across the track.

He could faintly hear other cars swerving to miss him behind the 'whoosh' of explosion as the liquid propellant caught fire.

"God  _damned_ , slime  _sucking_ , shrimp- _faced_ , Zacalonian  _toad_ s _!_ " McCoy swore under his breath as the racing simulation winked out, leaving just the yellow tint of the game visor over his eyes.

On his back in the tight space, he reached up to remove the head covering hood with visor. The gamepod's coffin like cover rolled down to disappear somewhere in a slot at his feet. He sat up in the gamepod and shook his head to help reorient himself.

Uhura, standing next to his pod in her own tightly fitting black game-suit, hands on hips, smirked at him.

"I  _can't_ believe I hit  _another_ wall!" he grumbled. " _Nothing_  should be that hard to drive!"

"I was watching. You  _did_  make a nice, huge fireball, if that helps any," Uhura said, nodding toward the big screen at the other end of the room where a crowd had formed to watch. "You've slowed the track down for a lap as the track crew starts clearing out your debris. Maybe you should play something that doesn't involve racing. Or cars."

"Or any kind of manual transmission, apparently," McCoy huffed. He began climbing awkwardly out of the gamepod, tossing the eyepiece inside for the next player but stuffing the tight-fitting hood in the suit's one pocket. "How's Jim doing?"

"In the top five at the moment. But it looks like Hikaru is leaving everyone in the dust. Again," She shook her head. "No surprise there."

McCoy straightened and grimaced, trying not to grab at his crotch while people were looking. Game-suits weren't made for much physical movement and chaffed in all the wrong places. Filled with micro-sensors and mechanical pressure points, the suit could mimic almost any of the physical sensations the games and simulations projected. But they didn't provide any stimulation to one's erogenous zones. For a reason. Yet it still managed to make him too well aware of how uncomfortable those erogenous zones were while suited up.

It was almost as tight and revealing as their swimming uniforms. Only less comfortable.

McCoy caught the Game Master's eye through the crowd around the viewscreen. An Ensign from engineering, she was in control of the gamepod scheduling and simulations for this shift. She looked at him questioningly.

McCoy raised his hand over his head, made a circling motion and pointed at the clock over the door to the Galley. The signal meant that he was done with his turn and the rest of his gamepod time. McCoy mouthed ' _Captain_ ' at her and she nodded, typing information into the large control panel in front of her.

"Quitting?" Uhura asked. "You still have forty-five minutes left."

"Just gave it to Jim," McCoy said with a sigh. "He'll enjoy it more than I would."

McCoy looked over the crowd to the large screen on the wall. Crewman who had finished their gaming session, ready to start one, or just plain wanted to watch others play, had filled up the few viewing chairs. The rest stood watching the various games in progress. The biggest screen, the one in the center, was devoted to the race.

Not all games were visible since many were played privately. But team sports had proven to be a big hit on the ship over this first six weeks of testing and those could be pulled up for viewing on any monitor on the ship that wasn't being used for work. Which had boosted the creation of tournaments and under-the-table betting.

As the test subject for the new gamepod system developed for team-building entertainment on long trips, the Enterprise crew had taken to the new toy. It wasn't the holy grail of a holo-deck Starfleet had been promising for years, but it was another step in working out the logistics of starship voyages, which were becoming longer and longer every year.

McCoy was afraid that if they ever did get that holodeck technology working like they wanted, ships like the Enterprise may not see a port in years. And that was a scary thought. He didn't see how anything unreal could take the place of real experiences. It certainly hadn't won him over so far.

But he was just a Doctor. What did he know?

"Well, I'm in no mood to watch," McCoy muttered with frustration. "Are you coming or going?"

"I'm through. Want to eat?"

"Might as well, since we're here," McCoy said with a shrug. "Jim's gonna be a while. Spock working?"

"He's off-duty. But  _his_  version of  _'gamepod fun'_  is to jump into the programming and burrow in for a nice, long study, as he's doing tonight."

"Yeah, I noticed that he didn't seem very interested in the games themselves."

"It's a  _Vulcan_ thing," Uhura said with a sigh. "They're not much into  _'self-delusion',_ as he put it."

They wove their way around the other twenty-some gamepods that filled the room. All were now busy, as was the pod he'd just left. Game time was valuable, and they mostly stayed full in this room.

On their way out, McCoy and Uhura both grabbed a generic white robe from a stack by the door. Since the gamepods were in their test phase for long-term voyages, the ship hadn't been designed with them in mind. The 237 coffin-sized containers couldn't just be stacked around the ship willy-nilly. So, they'd been split up and put in just about any side room that could hold them, all connected to a master gaming computer.

This room, off the ship's Galley, had been a storage room for furniture and other non-food items that Jim and the Head Chef decided they didn't need all that much. So, instead of worrying about putting in changing rooms, people could come and go from their cabins to the various game rooms in robes. Or wear them while eating in the Galley.

Which was a damn good thing, since the game-suits were so tight and form-fitting that a lot of seemingly naked people wandering the off-duty areas would have been even more distracting than the games themselves.

Outside the door, the Galley and large dining room was busy. Balancing the size of the Rec Room on the other side of the saucer, it also matched its openness. There was another large gamepod room just off the Rec Room. But the Galley's room had turned out to be the more popular meeting place for those who liked to play multi-player games. Most diners were in uniform, but here and there were clumps of the crew in their black game-suits and robes, talking game strategy and team formations. And, most likely, getting the betting pools started.

After all, the Big Game was coming up. Tryouts had already begun for it. Jim had even given department heads permission to rotate interested crew to alternate shifts if they wanted to join the Big Game. Safety first, of course, but even McCoy knew that there were plenty of crewmen around to make shift changes not only possible but seamless.

Going through the cafeteria line, he and Uhura both chose their dinner preferences and then stood at the edge of the dining area, looking for an open table. They could see a few crewmen leaving a table next to the viewport. Chekov, looking a bit down, nodded at his departing companions.

"Let's go cheer him up," Uhura suggested, making a beeline for the table. "He could use some."

"Oh? What bug's crawled up his ass?" McCoy asked as they wove their way through the tables.

"His age, amongst other things," Uhura whispered over her shoulder. "He's been on the ship longer than most of the crew and yet is still among the youngest. That and he hasn't heard from his parents in a while."

McCoy just shook his head and followed.

_What is it with parents of these genius types? So, the kids are super smart? That doesn't mean they're not **kids**. Kids who need their parents to tuck them in and read them bedtime stories. To send them silly gifts in the mail and sing Happy Birthday over subspace. As smart as he is, Pavel is still barely an adult, even after all these years on the Enterprise. Heck, the Academy plebes are now his age. This is no place for a kid to grow up._

_Hell, why have kids if you're not interested in parenting them?_

Honestly though, from what McCoy knew of Chekov's history, his parents weren't disinterested as much as they had had no idea what to do with a baby genius. Super brilliant infants in Russia that exhibited his abilities got sent to state institutions for education and training to make sure those sharp minds were constantly challenged. But the early training his parents had taken him to took up so much time and effort on their parts that eventually they'd pretty much given him up to the state to raise since he was five.

Sure, he'd grown up with the stimulation of those smart kids around him, but McCoy didn't believe that peer groups were the way to build a good, solid, basis for personal self-esteem. McCoy was sure Chekov's parents loved him, but they didn't seem to know him all that well. They'd treated him like an adult since he entered Starfleet Academy at the tender age of fourteen. Even, McCoy suspected, considered him so grown up that he didn’t really need them anymore.

_Everyone tends to forget he's just a kid who's seen too much already. Life. Death. Horror. A mountain of stress and responsibility.... No wonder he's been flirting with everyone who'll give him the time of day, on and off the ship._

_I know Jim swears Pavel will outgrow it, as he did. But damn... looking for love in all the wrong places doesn't even begin to cover the danger Chekov could find himself in someday, in some sleazy port where we might not even know he's in trouble until it's too late. Let alone the diseases he could catch._

As they came up to Chekov, McCoy could see that he did look a bit subdued. Chekov barely looked up when they came up to his table.

“Mind if we join you?” Uhura ask him cheerfully.

“Sure,” Chekov said with a careless shrug.

Uhura sat next to Chekov and McCoy headed for the chair opposite them, so his back would be to the viewport and the endless space outside.

“Not having a good day?” McCoy asked Chekov as he sat down. McCoy gave Uhura a wink. “Still haven’t gotten the red band yet?”

For almost two years now, the red Delta headband had made the rounds of the ship, passed from one sex partner to another. The Officers weren’t supposed to know about it, but if it had ever really been a secret, it hadn’t lasted long. After the first year, the passing of the band seemed to have slowed down. Although it could be that McCoy just hadn’t been keeping up with it. Or, maybe it had left the ship when someone transferred. In that case, some other ship was in for some interesting times.

Chekov looked up with embarrassment, his cheeks starting to flush. “No, no, it ees not that. I am fine.”

Chekov sighed.

Uhura gave him a sympathetic smile, then turned to McCoy. "He didn't get picked for either team in the Big Game."

"You would think that this would be  _easy_ ," Chekov said with a scowl. "We have been through worse in real life. But when it’s a game... I seem to overthink  _everything_.”

"Well, these games are fun and all..." McCoy said, shaking his fork at Chekov. “Fun for off-duty hours. But ask  _me_  if I’d rather be stuck with  _them_  or  _you_ when it’s my ass on a spit over some alien fire, and I'll pick  _you_  every time. Don't take it personally, Kid."

"Are you trying out for a team, Doktor?" Chekov asked curiously.

"Me?  _Hell_ no. It's all going to be a medieval based combat game, right? I had enough of that in real life, thanks."

McCoy saw Uhura and Chekov exchange unsettled glances. Obviously remembering when he'd been killed during a similar game in the past.

"Oh, Len,” Uhura said softly. “We didn't mean to remind you.”

"Ven you died..." Chekov said softly, trailing off with concern in his voice.

"Thanks, but that's not what I meant," McCoy admitted with a shy smile at both. "Honestly, guys, I really don’t dwell on it. Jim had it worse than I did. What I mean is that either team I ended up on, Jim or Hikaru would saddle me with the healer's job if there is one. I'd be put at the back, my ass plopped down on a carton of band-aids and magic healing spells or some-such. I can't fight worth shit, even in the simulations. Too much like real life. I'd be more a burden to the team than help when it comes to attack and plunder.”

"I can understand that," Uhura replied as she continued eating. "You want to be someone  _different_ when you play. Someone skillful and deadly in a fight."

"See?" McCoy said to Chekov with a smile as he nodded toward Uhura. "She's not even gonna  _try_ to pretend that I'm not a shitty fighter."

"I've  _seen_  you fight, Len."

"What about you, Nyota? You'd make a great warrior woman. Seen that already." McCoy smiled, remembering her as Joan of Arc and her defending herself against a knight just a few months ago.

"Same problem you have." Uhura shook her head. "I don't mind group activities but fighting an enemy to capture a flag? Feels too much like real life. Now,  _leading_  a team would be different. But everyone is focused on the Big Game, so no one's looking to start another tournament right now. I’ll just play the single player games until something more my style comes along."

"Ahoy there, me mates," Scotty said brightly as he came upon them with his dinner tray. "Mind if I join you?"

"Sure, Scotty," McCoy said. Uhura and Chekov quickly agreed.

"You been playing some pirate game lately?" McCoy asked, noting that Scotty was still in uniform.

"Me? Ach, no," Scotty said, waving away the question as he settled in next to McCoy. "Not really my thing, you see. Give me some spare parts, some welding equipment, some bits 'o wire and nano-panels, and I'm good to go for an evening in. But I have been tweakin' some of the programming on one of the pirate games. Bloody saucy talkers, they were."

He started in on his salad, glancing at McCoy and Uhura's robes. "You comin' or goin'?"

"Playtime's over for tonight," McCoy said. His elbows on the table, he leaned closer to Scotty. "How's the simulation for the Big Game going? With all this  _'nothing to do but get from here to_   _there_ ' for a few more weeks, it's all Jim's been talking about. He was getting bored."

"Ah, it's fine," Scotty said after another bite. "Ninety-nine percent of all that kind of stuff was programmed into the software package. Just needed a few tweaks to set it up, pick locations, make all the decisions on game uniforms, weapons, hit points... Right now, the Captain and Sulu each have a training field for testing out the candidates for positions on their teams. What's  _hard_  is the refereeing."

"Oh? What are those two butting heads over now?" Uhura asked.

"Well, the Captain wanted to use gold piping on his team's medieval outfits. Sulu didn't think that was fair since it might put off his team members from wanting to fight against command colors."

"Oh, Lord," McCoy said with a roll of his eyes. "This game is too damn serious already."

Scotty nodded. "Yeah, it got a bit heated there, so they asked my opinion. As Game Master."

"Which was?" McCoy asked.

"I sat them down and told them firmly and directly..." Scotty grinned, raising his voice, " _no one bloody **cares**!_ "

As McCoy and Uhura laughed, several of those at the table behind Chekov and Uhura turned to look at them. Chekov smiled crookedly.

"Both of them turned a bit reddish and worked it out quietly. Under my watchful eye!" Scotty said happily. "It's  _fun_ to be in command."

"That'll teach them," McCoy said around a smile.

"You three trying' out?" Scotty asked after taking a few more bites.

Both Uhura and McCoy shook their heads.

Chekov looked down at his plate and shrugged. "I did not qualify. I react too slowly."

"You?" Scotty asked in surprise. "You're usually jumping around like some insane flea when it all goes crazy. You choked on a  _game_?"

Chekov shrugged. "Real life is... different. I know that this is just a simulation, so I overthink things. Slow to react. Both the Keptain and Sulu were very nice about it but said the same thing."

"Well, join the club," McCoy said with a sigh as he nursed his coffee in both hands. "You overthink, I can't fight, and Uhura's not interested in just being cannon fodder. You're at the right table tonight."

"It ees too bad we can't become one avatar," Chekov said with a sigh. "Between the three of us, we could earn very high hit points. Our ranking points would also be very high."

McCoy froze mid-sip of his coffee as an idea hit him.

_Why couldn't we? Is it possible?_

McCoy swallowed quickly, possibilities running a mile a minute through his head.

" _Wait!_  Guys?" McCoy said in a low whisper, leaning over the table. "Why can't we?"

"Can't we what?" Uhura asked with a frown, keeping her head down.

Chekov and Scotty leaned in as well, curiosity on their faces.

"Why couldn't we three go in and  _be_  one character?" McCoy asked. "Combine our strengths! Take turns or switch over when we hit something we're not good at?"

"Is that even possible?" Uhura asked, looking skeptical, but interested.

"I  _think_  so. I have  _all_ the specs for the gamepod's physical wiring and interface," McCoy said, growing excited. "The system connects to our bodies using the same technology as many of the current limb prosthesis do. It reads our brain waves the same way. Only it's the computer image of our bodies that move and interact with the surroundings, not an artificial limb. And these suits act like nerves and muscle fibers. We get feedback from the way it pokes and prods us in all the right ways, in all the right locations, so we feel like we're really surrounded by the world the optical interface is displaying.

"Oh!" Chekov broke in with his own excited whisper. " _And_  the visual programs are open-ended. We  _can_  adjust them, if the programming is off. It ees possible that we could share the same view of the game between three headsets, as the techs do when tweaking a program when there are problems."

"Aye, that's true," Scotty said, looking intrigued.

"So, we really could play as one player? Theoretically?" Uhura seemed to drift off for a moment, then smiled wickedly. "We could get into some real trouble that way."

"Couldn't we just?" McCoy said, matching her smile. "Imagine what we could do in the Big Game."

"In the Big Game?" Chekov asked, looking uncertain, but interested. "But then whose team--?"

"Our  _own_ ," McCoy interrupted with an evil smile. He turned to Scotty. "Tell me, Scotty, in the rules for this Big Game of theirs, can there be more than two teams?"

"There is no rule  _against_  it," Scotty admitted. "The program itself could handle a dozen teams, up to thirty players apiece. It'd barely notice a third. And neither the Captain nor Sulu has forbidden it."

"In a real-world scenario, there are always outside forces we can’t account for," Uhura added. "If we went into the game as a third party, didn't play favorites, and fought to win for ourselves, then why not? After all, we’d be going in severely outmanned. We'd probably only last minutes."

“But those few minutes might be enough to rattle a few cages,” McCoy said. He turned to look at Scotty. "Can the gamepods be set up that way?"

Scotty pushed aside the remains of his meal, and leaned his elbows on the table, head on hands. McCoy would swear he could actually see the man's brain working the idea.

"Aye," Scotty said seriously after a moment. "I've got five broken gamepods in a room off of Engineering right now. I was going to salvage parts to get a few working. I could jigger some of the internal programming to accept signals from other pods, as they do from the Master program. We couldn't put them with the other pods, but ye'll be wantin' to practice in private, right?"

"Well, we wouldn't want everyone to see us fall flat on our face," Uhura said. "Besides, wouldn't this be more fun if no one knew what we were doing?"

"Anonymous?" McCoy said. "I like that idea. We could drop in and out, like some kind of Ninja, or assassin. I especially like the idea of dropping in on the Big Game unannounced."

“I’d assume it would be a lot harder than it sounds,” Uhura admitted. “We’d have to figure out how to stand, walk... How do we even split those basic movements between us?”

"I think there could be a way," Scotty said. "If you can pop in and out of an avatar at will, poppin' into part of one shouldn't be all that difficult."

"And we have a few weeks until the Big Game, right?" McCoy asked with a shrug. "Either we'll have it working by then or we don't."

"True," Uhura said. She sat back in her chair, eyes on the viewport behind McCoy, taking a moment. "It’ll be extra work, and we’d have to be careful neither Spock nor Jim realizes what we're doing. Not if we want to be anonymous.”

“Da!” Chekov said with the first really evil smile McCoy had ever seen on him. “That could be very fun. To be like a super soldier. To win and no one knows who we are.”

Uhura laughed. “Even if we don’t win, maybe we can just get good enough to get into the game, which should confuse everyone no end.”

“But will it not be hard to keep this from Mr. Spock and the Keptain?” Chekov asked seriously.

“Oh, Spock doesn’t play that way,” Uhura said. “He’s more interested in the programming side of things than the simulations themselves. I’ll just tell him I’m practicing one of my games and he’ll assume it’s one of the ones he already knows about.”

“Not a lie,” McCoy said with a nod as he sat back. “And Jim’ll be practicing with his team from now on. Since I’m not on it, he’ll just assume I’m playing solo or watching him play. I’ll just keep any info on what I’m doing during that time generic, same as Nyota. Unless he outright asks. Then all I have to do is ask him how his practice went, and he’ll jabber on for a good hour. He’ll forget the question.”

"But, ye can't cheat," Scotty said firmly. "Your avatar can earn health and hit points just like anyone else's. And no super or exotic powers. Same weapons as the other two teams get to choose from. No extra points, long life, or anything the others don't get. Otherwise, I can nae let you in to play in the game."

"I'm fine with that," McCoy agreed.

"You'll have total power over our avatar, to make sure it all stays fair," Uhura said. "We just want to be our own team."

They all three sat for a minute, letting the idea jell.

"And we could get some good research papers outta this," Scotty added after a moment. "Starfleet wants every bit of data we can squeeze out of this experiment. So, the Captain can't complain too loudly. This is a whole new use of the system, and that's what Starfleet wants."

Scotty smiled happily. "I  _like_ it. Keep people on their toes."

“I’m in, if you guys are,” Uhura said with a conspiratorial smile for those at the table.

“Give everyone something new to talk about,” McCoy agreed with a smirk. "Keep  _me_ entertained, anyway. I'm up for some mischief."

"Me too!" Chekov said happily.

"Well, let's get to it then." Scotty pushed away from the table. He looked at Chekov. "You follow me, and we'll dig into those gamepods in Engineering. And you two," he nodded at McCoy and Uhura, "go get changed and meet us there. We've all got a  _lot_  of work to do."

 

 

 

***

Two long, slow, work weeks later...

***

 

Leonard McCoy tried to keep calm as he looked over the edge of the cliff and down into the valley below. The cliff gave them almost a four-story view of the battlefield that stretched out before him. The sun wasn't quite as bright up here, the wind not as forceful, nor the vegetation as realistic as it had been below. Chekov had told them that they were at the edge of the game field, so no one would be coming up from behind them.

Which was probably why the simulation seemed a bit thin up here. Most of the game software was concentrating on the center of the valley, where most of the players were, keeping those details as rich and sharp as possible for the majority.

McCoy could see Jim's team, the  _Raiders_ , and Sulu's team, the _Avengers,_ start to take up opposing positions. The outer edges of the forest below were thick with trees and bushes for hiding, but none of them were so tall that McCoy couldn't clearly see over them.

The game had started less than an hour ago and both Captains were busy getting their players into battle positions. While both teams had dressed in forest greens and browns, Sulu's team had medieval clothing that had a thick ring of blue around their necks. Jim had, of course, kept command gold.

McCoy, Chekov and Uhura had settled on solid black attire for their avatar with a band of silver around their neck and had logged in with the name Assassin. Their accouterments consisted of all black leather, with a hood hiding a blank, black face. With the voice synthesizer on, they would sound the same, no matter who was speaking. Not that they'd planned to do any speaking out loud if they could help it.

And they had chosen to carry a dagger, a sword  _and_  bow and arrows. Nothing in the rules said they couldn't have and use all of them, although it cost them all their purchase points to do so. But they figured if they got spotted and attacked, they'd either be the victor or the vanquished quickly. No use planning on prolonged fights.

Happily, all their long hours of practice in working as one had paid off when Uhura had taken over the Assassin to vanquish the two warriors Jim and Sulu had sent up to capture the overlook. Knowing the two camps had both sent fighters to the high point, they had held back and let the two fight it out. Then, when Sulu's warrior winked out of existence, Uhura had surprised the survivor. Low on health points, with not enough time to gain more, Jim's fighter had been easy pickings for Uhura.

McCoy had found it was always an exhilarating experience to be a passenger as Uhura put her fighting skills to good use. In this game, she was definitely the brawn of the team. Now, both captains would assume that their own men held the vantage point when they didn't return.

_"Pavel, are you sure that we should take out the archers first?"_ Uhura's calm voice came through their private headset. It was almost like she was lying right next to him.

_"Yes. That will force them into hand-to-hand combat,"_ Chekov replied.  _"That will wear them out faster."_

_"Which ones are the archers?"_ McCoy asked looking around the field, a view he shared with Uhura and Chekov _. "And before you tell me **'the ones with the bows'** , I can't see them when they're hunkered down like that."_

The field was long and wide. At the very center of the forest was a clearing. Dead center of that clearing was a wooden lattice tower, about five stories tall. Those who made it to the area would have to climb it to reach the golden flag at the top. First team to reach it, and detach it, won. Both teams were making their careful and stealthy way to the edges of the clearing. McCoy hoped that both captains would continue to believe their own men had the cliff covered.

_"Sulu has put his archers and most of his men up front,"_ Uhura said.  _"I think he's going to have them set off a barrage of arrows and see how many of Jim's men he can pick off. I think Jim's holding his men back."_

_"Probably to use if Sulu's men start climbing the tower first,"_ McCoy said _. "We only have twelve arrows per quiver. Sulu's going to lose a lot of arrows that way and give Jim's men extra if they can go back and recover them."_

_"It looks like Sulu's team has ten archers,"_ Chekov said.  _"And the Keptain has five. Sulu has more arrows to spare."_

_"Jim's team is closer,"_ Uhura said.  _"If we pick a few of them off, he may not notice for a while. Len, you take the shots."_

McCoy felt the sensation of the avatar switching to his game-suit as Uhura turned over control. Once in command of the body, he stood and picked up the recurve bow and strung it, making sure the string was taut. McCoy had stopped counting how often they'd fallen on their face at the beginning when they were learning how to switch places, or even just single limbs. Just being able to carry and string the bow had taken practice, let alone shoot with it. It only took him a minute now to get an arrow nocked.

McCoy pulled the arrow back and picked a target.  _"That one, to the left by that big tree. Can we hit him?"_

_"He ees in range,"_ Chekov agreed.  _"But fifteen degrees to your right."_

McCoy tried to adjust. _"Here?"_

_"Not yet.... a bit more left..."_ Chekov said.

_"Here? No. Wait. **You**  take the left arm and aim."_

Suddenly, the sensors on McCoy's left arm went off as Chekov took control of that limb. It wasn't quite like going numb, since McCoy's own limb was just fine, but it was a clear loss of sensation. McCoy watched as Chekov carefully adjusted the aim.

_"Now, Doktor!"_

McCoy pulled back forcefully with the right arm, keeping his torso steady and released the arrow.

All three watched quietly as the arrow flew through the air and hit their target. The gold-trimmed warrior winked out, to the obvious surprise of those next to him.

_" **Yes**!" _ McCoy crowed.

_"Got him!"_

_"Good shot!"_ Uhura said happily.  _"They're not looking up here yet! Guys take out some more, quickly, before they catch on!"_

With Chekov aiming, Uhura keeping an eye on the players below, McCoy let fly several more arrows in rapid succession, taking players on both sides.

_"They've both figured it out,"_ Uhura warned.  _"They've realized the angle's wrong to be coming from across the field. They're both sending warriors back up here."_

In the distance, McCoy saw warriors starting up the hill on both sides of them.

_"We're being flanked,"_ McCoy warned.

_"They will concentrate on us, before fighting each other to retake this position,"_ Chekov said with certainty.  _"We are trapped. We must leave."_

_"How?"_ Uhura asked.  _"We can't fly."_

_"Let me see!"_ Chekov ordered.

McCoy backed out of the avatar, letting Chekov take control. He watched as Chekov had the Assassin peer over the edge of the cliff. Even though McCoy knew it was a simulator, it still made him feel a bit dizzy.

_"Ah! We can do this!"_ Chekov said happily.  _"We can slide down--"_

_"Slide? That's crazy!"_ McCoy complained, feeling that the angle was too steep. It wasn't a straight drop, but still... It looked like too many hit points to him.

_"No! We can slide down. It is not so steep that we will die."_

_"Len, I can't fight four at once. Even two will be problematic without the element of surprise,"_ Uhura admitted.  _"If he says--"_

_"Fine,"_ McCoy agreed quickly, unstringing the bow, and sliding it back into its bag on their back.  _"One of you do it. I'm not watching."_

McCoy backed out of the avatar, leaving Uhura and Chekov to work out the slide to what he was afraid would be a fall to their doom. He closed his eyes just as Chekov took them over the edge.

_"Got it! Got it!"_ Chekov cried excitedly. Not looking, McCoy could only hear the sounds of movement through his headset. He could hear the soft sounds of sliding earth and tumbling rock. Sneaking a peek, he saw a flash of green that must have been Chekov grabbing at a bush on the way down. Then, finally, he heard the thump of feet as they hit the ground.

_"Good job, Pavel!"_ Uhura said happily.

McCoy opened his eyes. They were at the bottom of the cliff and were running for cover behind a copse of trees. He checked their progress monitor.  _"Cost us a shit load of health points though."_

_"Better than being dead,"_ Uhura said. _"What now?"_

_"Both teams would have seen us escape,"_ McCoy said.  _"We need to run like hell!"_

_"Which way?"_ Uhura asked.

_"To the left! Sulu's side!"_ Chekov announced.  _"Doktor, **you** run! I will keep watch behind us."_

And he did. Running for his life was something he'd gotten good at.

_"Why left?"_ McCoy asked, once again glad that none of this took any real physical effort, or he'd be too winded to talk. Only their low hit points and the obstacles around them kept him from making better time.

_"Sulu had most of his men up close to the edge of the field. Ready to make a try for the tower,"_ Chekov said.  _"The Keptain had most of his team circling to the sides, ready to pin Sulu's warriors in and surround them when they make a play for the flag. We may be able to come behind Sulu's team."_

_"Sounds like Jim,"_ McCoy admitted.  _"Sulu may give him a good run for his money, but Jim's the chess genius."_

_"Where are we going?"_ Uhura announced.  _"We still have to get to the tower to get to the flag."_

_"To the end of the simulation, then turn right and again to the end."_

_"You're taking us around to the other side?"_ McCoy asked.

_"Yes,"_ Chekov replied.  _"Their teams will soon be fighting each other. They have assembled their warriors on the cliff side, where they think there is better cover. While they fight, we may be able to slip in through the other side, as there are fewer warriors there_."

_"They won't be expecting us,"_ Uhura said.  _"We can slip in."_

_" **If**  we can find an opening," _McCoy cautioned.

They ran for a while, finding the end of the simulation appeared as an impassable wall of trees and shrubs. In the distance, McCoy could hear the exaggerated sounds of combat. Whistles filled the air as arrows flew, warriors yelled, and horn issuing attack orders were blown as the two sides fought for access to the tower. Looking through their peripheral vision, McCoy could see the top of the tower and the waving golden flag over the cover of trees.

_Close, but not so close we can--_

McCoy was startled to see a rush of movement toward them, from off to their right.

_"Incoming! Five o'clock!"_ McCoy yelled. He backed out of the Assassin, letting Uhura jump in.

Uhura stopped and grabbed at their sword, pulling it out of its scabbard just as someone from Sulu's team came upon them, sword already in hand. She swung at the attacker and he backed off a second before charging back in.

Feeling helpless, McCoy watched as the avatars fought. Swords clashed and clanged as the two danced around each other. The Assassin was bleeding hit points fast, as was the other. And this was one medical situation McCoy could do nothing about fixing.

In combat this close, McCoy could see the name of the other player on the upper part of McCoy's visor. The other player,  _'Albertine'_ , was someone McCoy recognized.

_"Uhura,"_ McCoy whispered so he wouldn't startle her as she fought _, "let me have the left hand! Aim the sword for his collarbone, upper left!"_

As she took a step back, Uhura left the left arm open for him. McCoy used it to grab their dagger. When Uhura swung for Albertine's collarbone, the avatar raised his right arm to deflect the blow and McCoy threw the dagger, hitting Albertine under his right arm.

Albertine winked out. It had been a close call. They needed more time to regenerate hit points before another fight. They were almost out.

_"Stay completely still,"_ Chekov ordered.  _"We will regenerate hit points faster if we don't move. I will listen for further attacks."_

_"Len? You knew?"_ Uhura asked as they both held the avatar still.

_"He's always getting injured there in sword practice with Sulu,"_ McCoy said.  _"Saw him flinch and bring up both arms while in the simulator the other day. It's reflex."_

_"We're almost out of hit points,"_ Uhura said.  _"Staying still isn't racking them up very fast. I thought we'd regenerate faster if we won a fight? Win all their points, or gold, or something."_

_"The Keptain and Mr. Sulu vetoed that idea,"_ Chekov said.  _"I found out about it only minutes before the game. Only time and rest will restore them."_

_"Yeah, because in a real fight, you tire out, not power up,"_ McCoy said.

_"I think we can get to the tower now,"_ Chekov said.  _"It sounds like the fighting has all moved to the other side of the field. They are concentrating on keeping each other too occupied to make a play for it."_

They left Uhura in control, in case they were ambushed again. They carefully made their way through the forest and to the edge of the field, the tall tower guiding them. Groups of warriors were in combat around the opposite edges of the field. No one had yet made it to the base of the tower. Across the field from them, McCoy saw a warrior make a hell-for-leather run for it.

Even from a distance and with an avatar, McCoy recognized the way the warrior moved.

_"It's Jim! He's making a run for the tower!"_ McCoy exclaimed.

_"He has a clear field!"_ Chekov said with disappointment.  _"He will get to the tower first!"_

_"Not on my watch,"_ McCoy said determinedly.  _"Uhura, **let**  me!"_

Suddenly, McCoy had total control of the avatar and he took off at a run toward the tower. Most of the fighting was on the other side. Those few groups on this side were clustered together, fighting to the death. McCoy heard Sulu yell in the distance, trying to send his men to intercept Jim's kamikaze run at the tower. But Jim had a good start on them.

And McCoy was too far away to beat him. Jim reached the tower, grabbed the lower rails, and started to climb up on the other side of the tower. McCoy kept running until he was around the base of the tower, on the same side as Jim.

_"Incoming!"_ Chekov warned.

But McCoy stood his ground as arrows whistled past him and into the ground nearby. Glad for the practice, he strung the bow and nocked an arrow in record time.

_"He's almost at the top,"_ Uhura warned.

_"Check my aim Pavel,"_ McCoy ordered, trying to sight Jim's moving form correctly over the arrow's staff.

_"That should work,"_ Chekov said doubtfully.  _"But we are almost out of hit points as well."_

_"We can't get it,"_ McCoy muttered gleefully.  _"But neither will he."_

McCoy released the arrow and nocked another as he watched the first hit home, right in Jim's ass. Jim slowed, then went back to climbing as fast as he could. The second arrow hit Jim close to the first one. As the third and last arrow hit Jim, McCoy saw Jim's avatar wink out.

_"Got him!"_ McCoy yelled enthusiastically, even as he heard the telltale chime of depleted hit points tell them that for them, the game was over as well.

As the game disappeared, McCoy tore off his headset and sat up as soon as the gamepod cover was out of the way.

"Got him!" he yelled out loud once again. Uhura and Chekov, whose gamepods shared the same storage room with his just off of Engineering, sat up in their own pods. They were the only three in the small room.

"We didn't win, either," she said with amusement as she shook out her hair.

"But we were close!" Chekov said with a huge grin. "If the Keptin had not gotten there first--"

"We would'a had it," McCoy interrupted, going over to happily thump Chekov on the back as he crawled out of his pod. "See? The three of us can do  _anything_  in there."

"Uh, don't get ahead of yourselves, guys," Uhura said uncertainly. "Now that Jim's seen us, don't think that he's not going to come looking for a rematch. And he may not be too happy to find out we've been teaming up."

" _Nothing_  in any of the rules against it," McCoy said.

"We are doing  _research_ ," Chekov insisted.

"Don't tell me you didn't enjoy that," McCoy said with a smirk at Uhura.

She grinned and crossed her arms over her chest. "Yes. It  _was_ fun."

"Oh, do you think the Keptain will really come after us, next time we play?" Chekov asked, suddenly looking concerned.

"Are you kidding?" McCoy said with a laugh. "He's going to be after our identity as soon as he's out of his gamepod. He won't mind being taken out, but it'll drive him crazy not to know who did it. We're doing him a favor, Pavel. Trust me."

"If you are sure," Chekov said, suddenly happy again.

"I am," McCoy assured him. "Let's go see what his reaction is. He's in the game room by the Galley."

The three of them grabbed their robes and headed for the door.

 

***

 

"Well,  _damn_  it!" Jim muttered to himself as he climbed out of his pod.

He saw almost half of his team, and a good chunk of Sulu's, out of their pods and in front of the large viewscreen at the end of the room. Their game was the only one on the screen and Jim knew that the rest of the ship was watching as well. He walked over to the group, eyes on the game still in play. He felt like swearing a good deal more, but he still had to set an example for the crew, after all.

"Who's winning?" he asked the group instead.

"Sulu's got more men left at this point," someone said. "But your team has had some close calls. You got the closest to the flag so far."

"Who picked me off the tower?" Jim asked, watching the battle proceed without him. "I was too far away from them for my visor to show their name."

Jim saw the two men glance at each other. "We don't know, Sir. I was taken out by them as well. They were in all black with a silver neckband. Called Assassin."

"What?" Jim asked in confusion. "Silver? No  _real_ name?"

"No, Sir," Chinn chimed in. She was the warrior Jim had sent to capture and use the overlook to their advantage. "They took me out as well. Almost as soon as I beat Sulu's guy, we had it on. One hell of a fighter."

"We've been watching him, as well as the two teams," Someone from Sulu's team added. "No one knows who it is. But they were just taken out a few minutes ago, right after you were."

"Computer-generated?" Jim asked.

"Don't know, Sir," Chin said with a shrug. "Acted like a real person to me. Wasn't smooth and seamless, like programmed reactions would be."

"Willing to take chances," someone else said from the back. "Did a body slide down the side of the overlook. They were lucky they had any health points left after that. That was a crazy move."

"Who plays like that?" Another asked.

"Let me ask Scotty," Jim said, turning to walk over to the master console.

Scotty looked busy, watching all the screens in front of him and making adjustments as the game progressed. Jim knew he was recording every aspect of it for Starfleet's use in researching improvements to the system.

"Hey? Scotty?" Jim asked, coming up on the other side of the console. "Was that player, the one in black and silver, called the Assassin, a computer-generated opponent?"

Scotty, his eyes on the various monitors and screens in front of him, looked up just long enough to give him a big smile before going back to his screens.

"No," Scotty said cheerfully.

"Wait, that was a  _player_?"

"Yes." Scotty hit several buttons in front of him, eyes still on the board.

"Whose team?"

"Their own."

"Wait? What?" Jim asked, honestly surprised. "There were  _three_  teams on the field?"

"Yes."

"How many people were on that third team?"

Jim saw Scotty's amused grin.

"Only one avatar, Sir."

"That third team only had  _one_ avatar?"

"Correct!" Scotty said happily, sneaking a peek at Jim from under his lashes.

"But... We didn't agree to  _three_ teams!" Jim protested.

"Yah nae forbade it, either," Scotty said with a shrug.

_Did we? No, I guess we didn't. I guess Sulu and I both assumed...._

"Who  _was_  that?" Jim asked, curiosity growing to full bloom.

"Who?" Scotty looked up at him with feigned innocence.

"The crewman," Jim said, narrowing his eyes at Scotty. "The person who took me down. Shot me in the ass. What crewman was that? I may want to recruit them for the next round."

"Oh, that was the Assassin." Scotty grinned at him.

"Yes, I know  _that_  much," Jim said with annoyance. "Scotty, I'm just asking who the crewman was that took me down and entered the game without anyone knowing. They're not in trouble or anything."

"Oh, I know," Scotty said smugly. "Can't get into the game without me giving them permission, which I freely gave, seein' as how it wasn't against any rules."

Jim sighed. "Name? Please?"

"The Assassin has asked to remain anonymous."

"Anonymous?" Jim asked.

Before Scotty could answer, Jim heard Bones call out to him.

"Hey, Jim! You out already?"

Jim looked over as Bones, dressed in a game-suit and robe, came over to him.

"Oh, hey, Bones. You weren't watching the game?"

"Busy with my own stuff," Bones said with a shrug. "How'd it go?"

" _Almost_  had it," Jim said with a frustrated shrug. "But some wise guy shot me in the  _ass_  with arrows. Took out the last of my hit points."

A roar came from the crowd behind them as something exciting happened on the screen.

"Down to eight players," Scotty said. "You're gonna miss the ending, Captain. Three of them are fading fast."

"Yeah, okay, but about that anonymous crewman--"

"Who?" Bones asked, studying Jim's face.

"Someone decided to be  _their own team_ ," Jim replied with disbelief. "Joined the game without me knowing. Or Sulu, as far as I know. Went after the flag by _themselves_."

"No shit?" Bones asked, glancing at Scotty. "Sounds pretty ballsy to me."

Scotty smirked.

"Not only took some of  _my_  men out, but some of  _Sulu's_  too," Jim said with a shake of his head. "I was just asking Scotty who it really is."

"You mean, you don't know?"

"No! Get this! He was using an alias.  _Assassin_ ," Jim said. "All in black, silver stripe. Guess they have some moves on them, from what I've heard."

"Oh, so they want to play anonymously, then? So why ask Scotty?"

Scotty glanced up at them both with amusement.

"Because I wanted to know--"

"Why? Are they in trouble? Did they break any rules?" Bones asked, looking skeptical.

"No," Jim replied, scowling at his husband. "I just wanted to  _know_ \--"

"Humm...." Bones said, shaking his head. "I'm not sure that's fair, Jim. To the player or to Scotty."

"Me  _asking_? Why?"

"Well, you  _know_ everyone plays these games for their own reasons, with their own preferences," Bones said with a shrug. "Maybe being anonymous is part of their fun. And if the Game Master said there was no rule against it, then why pursue their identity? Unless, of course," Bones said, giving Jim a calculated look, "you don't think you can figure out who it is without ordering Scotty to tell you."

Jim looked askance at Bones.

"I'm wasn't going to  _order_  him to tell me. I was  _asking_."

"Ah, verra wise, Sir," Scotty said with a shrug. "Because without an order, I canna say who the Assassin is."

"Okay," Jim said, holding up both hands in surrender. "I get it. That's fine. As long as they don't break any rules, they can have their fun. If I run across them again, I think I can figure out who they are."

"On a ship with over a thousand people, you think you can pick this person out?" Bones asked. Jim could see doubt on his husband's face.

"I'm a hands-on kind of Captain," Jim said, giving Bones a confident smile. "I try to get to know  _everyone_. It's like playing poker. Everyone has their own tells. Eventually, I catch one and I'll  _know_."

Bones rolled his eyes. " _Sure,_ you will. I'll hold my breath."

The sudden sound of loud cheering echoed through the room again. Jim looked over at the crowd, seeing more of his and Sulu's teams joining the group after leaving their own gamepods.

"Three left, Captain," Scotty warned. "Better hurry if you want to see the winner, ‘cause they're all from Sulu's team and climbing the tower together."

"Oh, hell," Jim said with a sigh. "Well, at least I can find Sulu and congratulate him when he's out of his pod."

"Oh, he's out already," Scotty said with a nod to the gamepods at the back of the room. "He got taken out about two minutes ago."

"Oh. Well, I guess that lessens the sting a little bit," Jim decided, turning with Bones to face the crowd. He slapped Bones's shoulder. "Let's go and watch the ending, Bones. I want to know whose hands to shake when it's over. Maybe Sulu and I can put our heads together and work out who this mysterious stranger is."

"Maybe," Bones said with a smile. "I wouldn't bet on it though."

Jim had to admit watching the capture of the flag for Sulu's team wasn't nearly as much fun as being out on the field. There was some grumbling at the end, but more cheering all around. Soon, the crowd started to disperse as people mingled and the gamepods were set for the next users. Most started drifting toward the Galley.

"Good game," Sulu said as he approached Jim, holding out his hand.

Jim shook it. "Sure was. Want to go two out of three?"

"Absolutely," Sulu said. "I can use another win under my belt."

"Yeah?" Jim laughed. "Enjoy this one. It's your last."

Sulu looked around the crowd and leaned in. "Who was that one guy? The one in black that got you?"

"The Assassin? They're anonymous. Scotty seems to know, but I'd have to order him to tell me. So, I didn't."

"Anonymous?" Sulu grinned. "That's cool. Wish I'd thought of that. But then again, being the winning captain and all, I think I like having my name out there, to be worshipped by my minions."

"Yeah,  _worship._ " Jim laughed. "Hold your breath for that. Although  _winning_  is fun, wait until all the bills come due. But I think I can pick the Assassin out of the crowd, given enough time."

"I'll keep my eye out as well," Sulu said. "Maybe I'll figure it out before you do."

"You're  _both_ deluded," Bones said with a shrug as he started walking to the exit. "Good luck with that. I'm hungry."

"We'll get the next date set up later," Jim said to Sulu as he followed Bones.

"Will do," Sulu promised.

Jim followed Bones into the Galley, and almost bumped into him when he stopped suddenly.

"Let's eat at home," Bones said in a whisper. "This suit's about to pinch my vitals off."

Jim chuckled, and clapped Bones on the shoulder.

"Fine with me. And I know what you mean. These things are awfully tight for not having any sensors in the crotch."

They turned for the exit, heading for the hallway and the lift to their cabin level.

"Scotty says that's the most asked question about the game system," Bones said with a laugh as they made their way through the traffic in the corridor. "Where's the sensors we all  _really_ want?"

_And that's why they didn't put any in those spots,_ Jim thought with amusement.  _They say every new type of entertainment is funded by the first adapters. The porn industry is a groundbreaker for a reason._

It was a relief to finally walk through their cabin door. Jim tossed his robe on the couch and was peeling himself out of his suit only seconds behind Bones. His suit was thrown on the couch as well, joining Bones's.

"So far," Jim said as he shook himself out, enjoying the cool air on his bare skin, "it seems to be working. We're in such a dead part of space, there's nothing for us to do for weeks on end. Entertainment during these dead times is really going to be a problem."

"Has anyone figured out why there's this huge empty area?" Bones asked, padding naked to the 'fresher. "I mean, I know space is empty, but according to Spock, this area is even lacking any dust and gasses that are usually hanging around."

"Not yet," Jim said walking up to the 'fresher door. "That's why  _we're_  out here. I think Starfleet has been watching this area for a long time, which is why we haven't pushed out this far, in this direction. It's not only empty, but we can't get a good look at anything that might be beyond it. We have no idea how far it goes."

Bones looked at him with a frown. "So, we get to walk smack into the middle of all this... nothing?"

"Bones, we're not even  _sure_ where the middle would be. There's just so little light or radiation coming through it, we can't get a scale on it."

"So... how far out are we going?" Bones asked, suddenly looking worried.

"For another month or so, unless we run across anything interesting." Jim sighed, leaning a bare hip against the sink counter. "There's a reason this area is so empty. We need to find out what it is."

"It's like a haunted house," Bones said, turning on the shower. "It's so dark and empty we're all just waiting for the boogeyman to jump out at us."

"Which is why this game system has been such a big hit," Jim said. "We're all stressing to see in the dark out here. When we're off, we have to be able to relax and not think about how few even the gas molecules are. How empty of dust or radiation, of  _light_ , it is just outside the ship. We could be the only bit of life this area has ever seen, or ever will see. It's scary. And it works on everyone's nerves. The games help us forget that. For a while."

Jim watched as Bones stepped into the shower, watching the smooth play of muscles under his skin, the sweet curve of his ass and strong profile as he moved.

Bones, standing under the mist, turned to look at him with an evil grin. "You coming? Said I was  _hungry_. Didn't say it was for food."

Jim smiled, walking slowly over to the shower's entrance. Horrendously big for a ship, a perk of his rank, it accommodated both of them fairly well, if they didn't get too energetic. Bones's growing erection drew his eye and made Jim flush.

_How I want this man. All of him. All the time. Almost a whole year since we've been married, and it's always so good._

He stepped into the heavy mist and pulled Bones's body to him, meeting Bones's mouth with his own. His mind filled with the slick, hot song of nerve endings rubbing against someone else's. Someone alive and aroused and whose attention was only for, and on, him.

They kissed deeply, as if trying to suck the life out of each other as their bodies burned and tingled at all their contact points. Jim could feel Bones grow fully erect against him, and Jim rubbed his own against Bones's slick skin.

It didn't take long for Jim to feel the burn of want, of need, of his body insisting that he needed more. And he could feel the same need building in Bones, as their grip on each other grew stronger, fingers almost bruising, mouths nipping at tongues and lips.

" _God_ , Jim.” Bones pulled out of their kiss, mouth going for that sensitive earlobe and the white stripe of hair near it. Bones nipped at the lobe, making Jim shudder at the spark of pleasure-pain. "Want to suck you off."

"Do it," Jim groaned into Bones's neck. " _Please_."

Bones went to his knees and sucked the tip of Jim's cock into his mouth, taking the majority of Jim's shaft in his fist. His other hand grabbing and squeezing his sac. Pulses of lightning burst through Jim's body as he leaned back against the shower wall. Jim fought to keep his hips still, as neither of them moved for a second. The hot, tight, wetness of Bones's mouth and the strength of his hands on his sac the only thing that existed in Jim's personal universe.

Time seemed to stop, with only the hot mist of water moving. It covered Jim, collecting in thousands of drops that ran down in long trails of water down his body. Bones, his wild, thick dark hair now sticking up wetly, framed by those expressive eyebrows, watched Jim with green-gold eyes as they both stood still. Those eyes were so many things at once. Aroused. Amused. Teasing. Demanding. Needing...

_So complicated,_ the rational part of Jim thought. The rest of his mind just wanted to drift off and quit thinking altogether.  _Some people think that because I have rank over him, that he's secondary. The lesser in this marriage. How can people not see how intricate he is? So layered and complicated. So many moods. All so damned brilliant. And all of him loves me._

_How the hell did I ever earn that?_

Jim saw the mischief in Bones's eyes just seconds before he started to suck. Hard.

Jim's body arched, and he moaned, and he quit thinking at all as pure pleasure pushed out anything rational.

Bones sucked him expertly. Hard and soft, then rough and fast, alternating in heat and pressure as his tongue played Jim, like an instrument. Bones's hand stroked his shaft with varying firmness, sometimes hard and tight, then feather soft. Bones's other hand played with his testicles, always in contrast with what he was doing to Jim's cock. Both testicles received attention, individually and together. Jim had no idea how long this continued. Just when his heart felt like it would give out, and he would give his soul to cum, Bones amped it up.

Every muscle he had straining, Jim grabbed Bones's head, stilling it as he came down Bones's throat. The first pulse of ejaculation made him see stars. The next took his breath. The next few were a blissful step back from the desperation of the build-up as his body emptied and calmed at the same time.

" _God_. Bones." Jim could barely talk. He could barely stand. As Bones released him and stood, Jim's hands flowed down Bones's body. He could feel the tense, hard desire in him. Could feel it when Bones pressed his hungry and needy body against Jim's.

" _Jim_?"

He heard the question in Bones's voice. Felt Bones's straining erection pressing against him. Rubbing the tip of his glans against him.

Jim didn't say anything. He turned around to face the shower wall, spreading his legs and bracing himself like he'd done so many times before.

Jim heard Bones fumble with the lube container that they kept in the shower and prepped him. It didn't take long, as Jim was still so very relaxed against the warm, wet wall. In a moment, he felt the head of Bones's cock at his entrance, and the slow, steady spread as Bones pushed in. Jim pushed back, making the angle better for both of them.

Bones's body was hard and hot against his back. His breathing deep and ragged.

" _Jim_ ," Bones hummed at the crook of his neck, making Jim's name roll into a sound of pleasure. Bones whispered the next words into his shoulder, then gave him a slight nip at the join of neck and shoulder. " _Love you_ , Kid."

" _Take me_ , Old Man," Jim hummed back. He grunted as Bones thrust hard and deep. Bones's hands moved to Jim's hips, pulling him a bit further away from the wall, and Jim moved his feet to support himself better. Bones adjusted his position, leaning against Jim's back, and gave another experimental thrust, then groaned so deeply Jim could feel it in his own chest.

Then with a hard, desperate rhythm Bones fucked him, shoving him hard against the wall and making Jim struggle to stay upright.

Jim closed his eyes and relaxed into it. Having just come hard himself, it wasn't arousing, but it felt  _good_. In a body-massage way  _good_. He loved having Bones inside him, joining them as much as it was humanly possible. He loved the way Bones's heart beat fast against his back, the way his ragged breathing told Jim how lost Bones was in his desire. The way he gripped Jim like he was holding on for dear life. The sound of their bodies colliding as Bones pounded him, deep and hard, making a primal sound that spoke to their animal nature.

And the sweet things Bones would whisper in his ear, when he had any mind left to form words.

Today, there were no words, but the sounds Bones made as he worked for his release were just as dirty, and just as loving.

He could tell when Bones got close to climax and was soon rewarded with Bones's arms forcing the breath out of his lungs. Bones gripped him tight as he buried his cock in Jim one last time and held them both still.

"Ah...  _love_ ," Bones whispered sluggishly.

Jim could feel Bones's contractions inside him as he ejaculated a few more times. The rocking of their bodies giving it away as well as Bones's deep grunts. Then, slowly, Bones relaxed his grip, leaning against Jim instead of holding him still.

They stayed that way for another minute, until Bones grew too heavy, and Jim had to move.

Carefully, they both adjusted to the movements of the other, as Bones pulled out and Jim straightened carefully. Turning, he could see the peace and satisfaction on Bones's face, but also that bit of concern that he always had when he felt he might have been too rough.

Jim smiled at Bones, letting him know he was fine. More than fine.

Then Jim started to clean up, turning the water from a mist to a real shower. Bones joined him, sharing the water and the soap. They finished up with a small kiss. All in silence.

The good kind of silence.

An hour later, after grabbing something quick to eat, also in silence, they crawled into bed.

"Jim?" Bones asked once the lights were out.

"Hmm?"

"Not even two weeks until our Anniversary. Have you had any ideas yet?"

Jim turned toward Bones. He could barely see his profile in the dark. "I keep thinking about it. I'm not sure. I'd like to do something special, but I'm not sure what."

"Me either. I know we agreed on no cards or gifts. Christmas and birthdays are stressful enough when it comes to gifts," Bones said thoughtfully. "A little late to do that anyway, all the way out here. But I was also thinking not to get too hung up on celebrating it  _on_  the day. If we get busy, I don't want to feel like we've missed it. A day or so, before or after, should count."

"Agreed. We'll take it when we can. Be glad for another year." Something came to Jim and he chuckled. "Too bad those game-suits don't let us mess around. We could save up our game time and spend an evening in some exotic location, getting each other off."

"As tight as those suits are?" Bones asked skeptically. "Jim, we really  _would_  pinch off our tenders in those things. I see enough none-Jim genitals during any particular week, thanks. I'd hate to see the groin injuries this crew could come up with in those suits, let alone in crazy-ass, weird simulations."

Jim laughed. "I hadn't thought about that. I guess you medical types get to see the whole spectrum of human and alien genitalia."

"Yeah, it tends to take away the mystique pretty fast," Bones said thoughtfully. "Just in my residency alone, I'll bet I saw a couple hundred human penises up close and professional. Yours is the only one that ever made me hungry."

"You old romantic," Jim said accusingly. He moved closer and Bones adjusted himself so that they could settle in their favorite position. "You let me know what I can do to keep you interested and hungry in the future."

"Just be there," Bones said. "That'll do it."

Jim relaxed, face in Bones's neck, pillow under his head and keeping his weight off of Bones's shoulder. The rest of him draped heavily over Bones's body. They may not wake up that way, but Jim loved the times they fell asleep that way.

"Guess we'll know what we want to do for our first anniversary when we get there. Maybe the right way to celebrate will surprise us both."

Bones sighed sleepily. "Surprises. Not my favorite thing."

"Usually, I love them," Jim said. "Most of my favorite stories and holo-vids have twist endings. I love not knowing what to expect."

"I know you do, Darlin'," Bones kissed his forehead. "Maybe I can help with that."

"Oh? How?"

Bones chuckled. "Wouldn't be a surprise twist if I told you, would it."

"Looking forward to it," Jim said happily.

_So many things to look forward to. I can't wait!_

Jim fell asleep. Happy and content.

 

 

 

***

 

Three days later, McCoy's time behind the wheel of the Xexterin 500 felt more natural. Not that he was any better a driver, but between the three of them they'd managed to miss hitting the track's walls for more than four laps now. Chekov was handling the breaking, clutching and gear shifting. McCoy hung on to the steering wheel for dear life with one hand while sharing the other with Chekov. Uhura kept watch over the traffic around them. This time the difficulties, and the excitement, didn't come from the game, but the competition.

As all the contestants had walked up to their cars, this time with the Assassin dressed all in black leathers and a black helmet, Jim's avatar had actually spotted him and walked up to them. The other players had stopped their race prep to watch.

Jim's avatar, dressed in dark blue with gold piping, almost looked like Jim. It was little less rugged, eyes less neon blue, more stylized and missing his white stripe. But certainly close enough to know who it was on sight.

_"He's coming up to us!"_ Chekov hissed.

_"Has he figured it out?"_ Uhura asked worriedly.

_"No, not yet,"_ McCoy assured them.  _"Just let me drive here. I know what he's looking for. Let's give him something to work with."_

McCoy could almost feel their relief when they backed out and left the whole avatar to him.

"Good day for a race," Jim had said with a smile as he came up to the Assassin. "At least we know it won't rain."

Jim was subtly studying their avatar. Not looking at any one place for too long. Jim was clearly sniffing around for anything he could use. McCoy knew he would get into the Assassin's face, see where his personal boundaries were. Try to see if he were male, female, or one of the various alien sexes they had on board. Would the Avatar react to Jim as the Captain? Or were they self-confident enough to face him head on, like most of the bridge crew?

Even though the eyes of Jim's avatar were dead flat, McCoy could see the curiosity in Jim's movements.

Through his earpieces, McCoy could almost hear Uhura and Chekov hold their breaths.

McCoy nodded casually at Jim but didn't say anything. He stood relaxed and let Jim look as he slowly walked around the Assassin.

_Look all you want, Kid. You don't scare me._

As Jim passed behind him, scoping him out, McCoy decided to throw him a bone. He twitched his left wrist slightly and made a fist a few times as if it were something he didn't know he was doing because he was nervous.

As Jim came back around to the front, his avatar smiled. He'd seen the move and filed it away.

"Hope for a good race," Jim said with that artificial smile. He held out his hand and McCoy shook it. Careful not to grip too hard, too soft, or for too long. Jim suddenly stepped forward and his avatar stared into the Assassin's visor. Even his avatar made the stare seem intense.

_"He can't see any face at all, can he?"_ Chekov asked nervously.

_"No,"_ Uhura said, not sounding entirely certain.

_"Shh!"_ McCoy warned, afraid that maybe the voice synthesizer would take that moment to turn itself on and their conversation would end it all.

All three of them let go a sigh when Jim nodded and strode off to his own car. Everyone had gone back to prepping for the race.

Now, it was a fight just to stay on the track.

_"He's coming up behind us,"_ Uhura said.

_"Doktor,"_ Chekov said in a chiding voice, " _we cannot maintain a safe speed if you cannot control the direction of the car."_

_"Doing the best I can, Pavel! Just say the word and you can steer!"_

_"He's pulling alongside!"_ Uhura added behind Chekov's humph of frustration.

Out of the corner of his eye, McCoy could see Jim's car pull up to them. It got dangerously close as they rounded the corner.

_"He's crowding me! What do I do?"_ McCoy asked, trying to keep his position on the track.

_"I think you should hold your position,"_ Uhura said.  _"He's trying to fake you out."_

_"Da. I would ignore him and concentrate on passing Tussock. She's in the green car on our right,"_ Chekov said, shifting and changing gears as he stepped on the gas.

_"Easy for you to say!"_ McCoy barked as he felt the force of the extra speed push him back in the seat.  _"You're not steering this damned thing."_

_"He can't bump you without getting a black flag and having to pull into the pit,"_ Uhura said calmly.  _"He's just testing your nerve."_

_"Yeah? Well, jokes on him. I don't have any_."

McCoy concentrated on not hitting anyone as Chekov kept the car moving and Uhura let him know what everyone else was doing. Jim's car gave up shadowing him. Just as Jim was pulling past them his whole car disappeared.

_"Ah, shit!"_ McCoy said.  _"Uhura, take over!"_

Just as he pulled out of the avatar, McCoy's gamepod switched off and the ship's computer sounded over his headset.

"Doctor McCoy, report to the bridge."

"McCoy here. On my way," McCoy announced with a sigh. He crawled out of the pod, glancing at Uhura's and Chekov's. They were still in play.

_It must not be an emergency. No one else seems to have been called in but Jim and me._

He grabbed a robe and made his way to the bridge.

 

***

 

Jim burst onto the bridge, still in his game-suit and robe, heading toward Spock and his station. Everyone on the bridge was concentrating on their monitors. Whatever they'd found, it had everyone's attention

"What kind of anomaly?" Jim asked, looking over Spock's shoulder.

"It is still several parsecs away and moving diagonally to us. It has just come into sensor range, so information is limited," Spock said. "However, the readings so far do not match any species, object, or ship design we know."

"Out here, it probably wouldn't," Jim said. "Lieutenant Striker? Any signals from that area?"

As Striker answered, Bones came onto the bridge. Jim noticed with surprise that Bones was in a game-suit as well. He came up to Jim and Spock.

"Negative, Sir," Striker replied. "Commander Spock has ordered regular First Contact broadcasts in various languages, from cultures at the edges of this area. No response yet."

"Keep it up," Jim ordered.

Bones squinted at the viewscreen, then looked at Jim. "What's up?"

"Found something ahead," Jim replied. "Spock, how big is it?"

Spock's eyebrows rose as he looked up at Jim. "Sensors say that it is 23 kilometers long and 10 kilometers at the widest point."

Jim felt his own eyebrows rise. The object was one long spiral, tapering from narrow to wide as the spiral progressed. It looked like a very large, tapered drill bit.  _That's huge! Bigger than the Narada. That's over nineteen times our length and more than thirty-three times our height!_

"Wow," Bones said in surprise, looking back at the tiny dot on the screen. "Sounds like we'd better tread lightly. Is it bigger at the back? Or is that the front?"

"It is shaped in the form of an Archimedean spiral, Doctor. It is heading in the direction indicated by the widest part of the ship."

"That's one big, damned screw," Bones said with an awed shake of his head. "Is it a natural object, a life form, a ship, or did someone's starbase get away from them?"

"Unknown at this time."

Jim frowned as he looked back over Spock's shoulder. "How fast is it moving?"

"Sub warp. I do not recognize the propulsion system from this data. It may be capable of warp, but I am unsure."

"So, it shouldn't be sneaking up on us?" Bones asked. "And how long, at this rate, would it take to get to the Federation?"

Spock looked up at Bones. "At the rate this object is moving, it will arrive on the outer edge of the Orion border in just less than ten years."

"Bones, if that thing sneaks up on us, we're the ones with a problem," Jim said with a small smile. "Spock, when will we be within phaser range?"

"Another sixteen hours."

"You're not planning on poking it, are you?" Bones asked worriedly.

"No, just want to know when we'll be in range to defend ourselves," Jim said. "Spock, get all the departments pulled into studying that thing, but keep to shifts. I want all information we're collecting streamed to Starfleet as we go and torpedoes ready if it suddenly throws anything our way. This thing could decide to change course at any moment. If it's got warp we want everyone well rested and ready to react. No overtime for anyone."

Spock raised a subtly annoyed eyebrow. "I am well able to work until we come within range, Captain."

"Maybe so, but I think Lieutenant Commander Drake can take the com for Gamma shift, as usual. I want Alpha shift well rested before we get too close. And that includes you," Jim said pointedly. "Anything unusual or any sign of it responding and we can all report to stations. Tomorrow's going to be a big day."

Spock nodded. "Aye, Captain."

"And that includes you as well, I imagine?" Bones asked Jim in a stage whisper.

"And that includes me," Jim said with a fond but frustrated glance at Bones. "I'll leave you to it, Mr. Spock. You know where to find me if anything interesting comes up before Alpha shift tomorrow."

Jim turned toward the lift. He understood Spock's wanting to stay and go over every line of data the ship would produce between now and tomorrow. This was huge and there's no telling what new discoveries they would make, or the new beings they might contact. But if they were going to run themselves ragged in the next twenty-four hours, then they should start it at the peak of their powers.

He must have sighed as they entered the lift.

"Sounds like we're all going to be busy for a while," Bones said once the door had closed on them. "If I know all the science divisions, no one's gonna be thinking about the gamepods for a while. Weren't you racing tonight? How'd that go?"

"Oh," Jim said, struggling to pull his mind away from the mystery in front of them. "I got pulled out, but I was doing okay until then. But the Assassin was there! I actually walked up to him, or her, and gave staring them down a try. But their avatar only had a helmet, no face. Want to stop back by real quick and see who won?"

"Sure. But after we change." Bones grimaced as he pulled at his crotch behind the robe. "What were you doing? Looking for tells?"

"Yeah and I found one," Jim said happily. "Clue number two, they twist their wrist and make fists when they get stressed."

"Wrist twist? What was clue number one?" Bones asked, eyebrow raised.

"So far, I've only seen them play during Beta shift. So that means they're not on duty on Beta. Simple."

"Still leaves a lot of people to weed out."

"Yeah, but it's a start. What were you playing?" Jim asked.

"Oh, you know. Something boring."

"Bones," Jim sighed, "You really need more excitement in your life."

Bones just turned to look at him like he was crazy.

 

***

 

Jim sat stiffly in the Captain's chair, late Alpha shift, watching as the bridge around him buzzed with excitement as they examined the  _Goliath_  from less than an orbit's distance. As they had neared the object, Chekov had suggested a name rather than the computer generated code tag, since a name would speed up discussions. Jim had agreed. Now in the logs the  _Goliath_  was the object's official designation until, and unless, a native name for it could be discovered.

If they ever found the creators, or passengers, or even a computer, to talk to.

So far, nothing had happened at their approach. No signal had come, and nothing seemed to move below them as the Enterprise played its spotlights over the broad hull. Yellow flashes of light came from within the spotlight as it ran across the bubbly, variegated blue surface, in sharp contrast to the blackness just outside the circles of light.

Now up close, the object was huge and even in space, the silence almost alarming from something so massive. Jim felt like a minnow swimming alongside a golden whale. While one part of him reminded him that a whale would never notice a minnow and thus not be concerned with it, another part of his mind constantly reminded him that they could be breathed in and crushed out of existence at any point. And the whale would never notice.

Looking around, he could see most of the crew were feeling the same way. They were excited, but anxious about it as well.

Especially Bones, who stood beside him at his usual spot, arms across his chest, hand worrying at his lower lip. Jim glanced at Spock, who was leaving the Science station to join them. He, too, was cautiously interested.

_I guess we've all been here before. We're certainly not giddy Academy graduates anymore, full of our own importance and place in this universe,_ Jim thought with a sigh.  _We've all learned that gathering information, acquiring knowledge, costs us something. We just never really understand what the price will be until too late. I know I certainly didn't need Trelaine's parents to tell me that._

_But, how can we not explore, even when we know damn well curiosity killed the cat? Like it might us, someday?_

"Could that thing have been built on a planet?" Bones asked worriedly. "It's just so...  _huge_."

"We can't really tell at this point," Jim said with a tight shrug. "We can't scan any of the inner portions. They have some sort of field around it that is thin around the edges and dense at the middle. We can barely read through the thinner edge of it."

"So, we can't see for sure if it's created or grown?" Bones looked at Spock. "You said that it could be a living thing?"

"We cannot be sure at this time, Doctor," Spock said, hands behind his back and his eyes on the viewscreen. Various data points changed on the edges of the viewscreen as the Enterprise flew down the long length of it. The rough surface of the ship looked like clumps of beach sand that sparkled with various yellow hues under their lights. The colors went from dull to bright, almost white to neon yellow, then a bright gold. They had not been able to find a pattern in it.

Spock continued. "What we have been able to determine so far is that the outer skin seems to be some sort of biological material, best able to absorb the various spectrums of sunlight from any nearby stars. Since we cannot scan inside the object, we do not know how it would use the solar radiation, store it, or if that is, indeed, it's purpose."

"So, it could be alive, with metal bones, or the metal a... scaffolding, with organic matter growing around it?"

"Could be any of that, Bones," Jim said quietly. "Or all of it. We can't know unless we go inside."

"Inside?" Bones asked sharply, looking down at Jim. "That's kind of rude, without an invitation, isn't it? We could be met with an alien version of a shotgun, invadin' their space like that."

"Or, this could be a derelict and full of alien technology we could learn from," Jim said. "Or a ship full of survivors of some kind, needing our help. We could follow this all the way to Orion space and study it from the outside for ten years and still discover nothing. We've been watching it for hours now and there's been no trace of them making any kind of contact. I think we should send in a landing party."

"With no information on who's there?" Bones asked with annoyance. "That's going to be dangerous, Jim."

"Agreed. Which is why I'm thinking of sending a shuttle. Scotty says that we could rig up a shuttle dock to fit the ones on the ship. We use our regular space gear and don't assume that there will be either gravity or anything breathable. We can beam items to the shuttle instead of the ship itself since our transporter beam won't work through that shield."

"I agree with the Captain," Spock said. "We should gather as much information as we can. Starfleet will want as much information, as soon as possible, and may choose to send out a long-term research vessel, who are not as equipped as we are, for a First Contact."

"Well, why can't we wait a few more days?" Bones asked with a frown.

"Doctor, do you have any basis for a belief that prolonged external examination will entice a response, where our arrival did not?"

"No. Of course not," Bones said with annoyance. "I just don't see a  _'welcome'_  mat either."

Jim frowned. He knew Bones was right, it was dangerous. But as slow as their approach had been and as close as they were now, he would have expected some type of response from the object. And while its slow, twisted rotation as it crawled through space at sublight speed could mean many things, from a culture taking part in a generations-long trek to a ship with a damaged warp core, there was only going to be one way to know.

_And it's our job to find out. If the Orions need ten years warning that death is on the way, then maybe we can give it to them. If this is a new friend, then maybe we can give them 10 years worth of help before they arrive._

_Ten years could mean the difference between survival or death for a whole species._

"We're going in," Jim announced. He glanced at Bones, who only frowned at him. "Spock? I want recommendations for a boarding team. Bones? We'll need medical."

Bones looked back at the screen and scowled. "Of course, I'm going."

Jim nodded. He knew Bones would come rather than send someone else, no matter who led.

"I'm going as well."

Bones and Spock both looked at him, Bones with a deepening of that scowl.

"Jim? You--"

"I'm going," Jim said firmly, looking at both Spock and Bones with determination. "No discussion."

Jim watched as Bones and Spock traded glances. Spock tilted his head and raised an eyebrow in silent communication with Bones. Bones huffed with frustration.

"Yes,  _Captain_ ," Bones said tightly.

"Good. Ready Room in one hour."

Jim got up from his chair and headed for the Ready Room. He wanted to make sure that before the boarding team left the Enterprise, that every scrap of information was on its way to the Federation. He hadn't mentioned to Bones that Starfleet had already given him leave to board at his discretion. They, too, were concerned that something so big was headed close to Federation space, even if it was going to take years to arrive. If it was dangerous, then the Enterprise could be the first, and only, warning the Federation and the Orions had.

It was, after all, their job.

 

***

 

Sitting in the pilot's seat of the Zandrake, Jim watched the monitors as he slowly backed the shuttle and its makeshift docking frame up to their chosen spot. This was going to be an iffy procedure to start with, even if they'd had a docking port the usual shape. And if they were sure this was a dock. As Bones had so adroitly pointed out, they could be attaching themselves to the venting system of the  _Goliath_ 's toilet for all they knew. All Kirk could do was hope that Scotty's jury-rigged, oddly shaped, self-sealing docking ring would seal up to the  _Goliath_  and give them a chance to burn their way in if they had to.

"Looking good, Captain," Sulu's voice came over the comm. Jim had left him in command of the ship, freeing Scotty for further assistance if needed. Around him, Spock, Bones, Chekov, T'Kesh, and Hendorff sat strapped in around them. All wore various colors of spacesuits, for easier identification over long distances. Jim was in gold and Spock in blue. Bones was in green and Chekov in Brown. T'Kesh and Hendorff, the two security guards, were in red and yellow.

Jim felt it when the shuttle butted up against  _Goliath_ , the dock hissing as it sealed itself to the other ship’s hull.

“Spock, any response from their side?”

“Negative, Captain. I will begin the burn through,” Spock said as he put on his mask.

They had been able to discover enough about  _Goliath_ ’s composition to know they could burn through the hull. Lasers in the base of the dock went to work, cutting through.

“Seal it up, people!” Jim ordered, watching as everyone put on their masks, watching faces to make sure everyone was breathing properly in their suits. He checked the phaser at his waist and got his tricorder started, ready to scan.

“Everyone hear me?” Jim asked.

A chorus of 'Aye, Sir' came back to Jim through the comm in his helmet.

Spock held up his hand in a signal. “Ready.”

Jim pressed the button that vented the shuttles untanked oxygen out into space, to keep it from contaminating the atmosphere inside.

“Open it,” Jim ordered.

Spock typed in a command and the shuttle shook as the large piece of  _Goliath_ 's hull inside Scotty’s connector fell back into the  _Goliath_. Jim felt it as the internal atmosphere flooded into the shuttle.

They all took readings, but Jim waited for Bones to report.

“Oxygen, nitrogen atmosphere,” Bones said, eyes on his tricorder. “Humid, with organic particles. Compatible, but it’d feel more like eating it than breathing it.”

“Spock? Any signs of life? Any notice of our existence?”

“No change, Captain.”

“Can we now scan further into the ship?”

Spock took a moment while the rest of them waited. He took several steps into the alien ship, studying his own tricorder.

“The field’s interference is only allowing me to scan half a kilometer further.”

“That’s more information than we can get from the outside,” Jim said. “Spock, you take the lead with me. Hendorff, you take up the rear. Keep an eye open behind us. T'Kesh, you stay here and guard the shuttle. Bones and Chekov? Keep your tricorder working and your eyes open. Yell if you find something good. Or bad.”

With his team behind him, Jim took his first step into the  _Goliath_. The light from his helmet was bright and wide, but didn’t seem to make much of a dent in the darkness of the room. There was a light, blue glow across from them, on a wall not ten steps in front of them.

“Light’s off,” Jim ordered. "Off in the shuttle as well." As the lights on the other suits and the shuttle went off, Jim’s eyes adjusted to the dim glow making the corridor and the glittering lights on the walls seem bright. “We can see in this. Anyone hear anything?”

After a moment, everyone replied with a  _no_.

The flooring was a light yellow and pebbly like the outside, only a smaller grain. Walking carefully, none of it moved under his feet. Walking to the wall, Jim touched it. He couldn’t directly feel the wall through the suit’s gloves. It felt rough although it looked smooth. Small lights came on in the walls down the corridor on both sides of them. Some blinked. The rest just looked like small, glowing diamonds.

“Captain?” Spock's voice came to him. “The blinking lights may indicate direction, and the main corridor.”

“Like the red-alert lights on the ship?” Chekov asked.

“Anyone getting  _any_ readings at all?” Jim asked.

“I’m getting some readings on the electronics in the structure,” Chekov said. "The shielding was hiding it."

“Definitely something organic all around us,” Bones said, tricorder held up in front of him. “Nothing complex. Not quite plant-like.”

“T'Kesh. Anyone or anything approaches, let us know. Keep control of the shuttle. We won't get off if we lose it."

“Yes, Sir,”

“Let’s follow the lights,” Jim said turning right to follow the blinking lights down the hall, his own tricorder set to watch for any movement ahead of them, keeping track of their movements for a map back.

 

***

 

Leonard McCoy stepped carefully on the rough flooring, not wanting to trip himself up in the bits of debris they had found not too far into the corridor. The flooring was lumpy, but in a pattern, and almost reminded him of some sort of scales. The corridor rounded, low ceilinged and serpent-like. Spock had to duck a bit as he walked. The darkness in this area, where pieces of the wall had broken and fallen onto the walkway, had Jim ordering their lights on again when the ambient lighting had disappeared with the wall sections. Jim and Spock speculated on the purpose of the various deep and dark openings in the walls and the cause of the debris as they walked. The rest of them followed carefully behind the two in the dim light, watching their footing and their specifically tuned tricorders.

Before, the corridor had felt almost alive, as if it would suddenly start to move. McCoy had been reminded of what humanoid intestines looked like through a scope. He felt like some sort of contagion, or parasite, walking through something living. He decided not to voice his thoughts to the others. It was already creepy enough.

Behind the fallen bits of wall covering was a webbing of metal and some sort of tubing that wasn't wiring but wasn't organic either. He'd stopped several times to collect bits and pieces of the debris, not wanting to damage anything that may still be functioning.

_This area may not be dead, but it's definitely non-functioning. If it is life, it's not reading as life as we know it. If this is a ship, where are the passengers? The crew? Is this an automated ship and it's just carrying a payload?_

He didn't ask his questions. He knew no one had answers yet. He reached out and touched another circular groove in the wall beside him. There were several they'd come across now. They were about half way up the curved walls, with six round, recessed circles close to them, three on each side. Pressing them had done nothing.

_What are these round indented circles? Some sort of door? I keep expecting one to slide open. If they're locked to all but crew, we may never get in. Maybe we really don't want to._

"Bones? Up here."

McCoy turned at the sound of Jim's voice and saw that he and Spock had stopped, the lights from their visor lamps shining down on the floor as Jim squatted beside a dark lump. The other's stepped aside to let him through.

"What is this? Is it organic?" Jim asked as McCoy squatted next to him and held his medical tricorder over the dark, dry mass.

"Yes," McCoy said as he watched the reading on his tricorder. "I think so. Traces of dried fluids and a rough, cellular structure. Old. Damned old, Jim. If there was any sort of DNA in this, it's long fallen apart."

"Captain?"

Jim rose. "Yes, Spock?"

McCoy stood as well. He couldn't see Spock's face, but he had heard the interest in his voice.

"I am now getting some more definitive readings toward the center of the object. While we are slowly losing our connection with the Enterprise through this ship's shielding, we are now able to scan further into it."

"So, as we lose contact with one, we're getting more information from the other?"

"Precisely. There seems to be a lot of electrical activity in a central location further to our right. I suspect it may be a bridge, or an auxiliary control of some kind."

"How far?" Jim asked.

"Straight line, about one kilometer."

"But who knows if these corridors even go near there," Jim said thoughtfully.

"How far do you think we should go?" McCoy asked. "We get caught sneaking up on someone not expecting us--"

"It's dead."

McCoy heard the certainty in Jim's voice as he reached out to touch a wall.

"The ship is still alive, but the crew is dead." Jim shook his head and McCoy just caught of glimpse of Jim's face through his visor as he did so. "It just... feels that way."

"Even if you're right and everyone isn't just at a huge birthday party at the big end, a ghost ship is dead for a reason," McCoy said with a frown. "I'm not sure we want to find out why."

"Keptain!" Chekov broke in excitedly. "I am reading some wary strange readings from another direction."

"Life forms?"

"No, not as we know it," Chekov said. "But there seems to be more... chemicals, oxygen, and other gases, which could signal some sort of flora."

"Let me see," McCoy said, moving to stand by Chekov and peer over his shoulder at his tricorder. "Yeah, he's right, Jim. This looks more like an ecological area than these corridors do."

"Eyes open, everyone!" Jim ordered. "Let's follow this corridor and see what our choices are. We won't drill through any walls we don't have to."

Jim called back to T'Kesh, who reported that nothing had happened since they'd left the shuttle. As they moved further down the hall, the condition of the walls improved once again, and Jim ordered their visor lights off once more. But while here things looked healthier to McCoy, they came upon several more of the strange piles of brown dust. And more and more of those strange circles in the walls. They came to a juncture, where the corridor they were in ended in a 'T'. The sparkling lights to the right were bluish and to the left a dark purple.

"The corridor to the right would seem to lead to what may be the control room," Spock said. "And the biological area to the left."

McCoy didn't have to see Jim's face to know he was working on a tough decision.

_Split us up or keep us all together. If only we had a crystal ball._

After a moment, McCoy saw Jim square his shoulders, then turn to face the group as his hand tapped on his own faceplate. "We're splitting up. I'm setting everyone's visor to count down one hour. We're to meet here at that time, then back to the shuttle. If there is  _any_  form of contact with the species that built or lived on this ship, report  _immediately_. If you feel safe in doing so, stay in place until we arrive. If not, make your way back to the shuttle. Everyone have the map?"

They all signaled that they did. McCoy eyed the small map that had appeared at the left of his visor warily.

_If that thing goes, I'm going to be lost. I don't care how color-coded these halls are._

"Spock, you're with me. We'll head toward what looked like the command center. Bones? You, Chekov, and Hendorff head toward the other area. Collect what samples you can. Switch to a team channel, so we don't talk over each other. Let's go. Clock's ticking."

McCoy didn't like this. None of it. Not at all. But he couldn't think of a single good argument to stop them. Jim was right. Discovery was what they were here for.

_Then why do I feel like I'm missing something? Something right in front of me?_

McCoy must have hesitated as he watched Jim and Spock walk further down the opposite tunnel. Chekov's hand was suddenly on his arm.

"Doktor? Can you hear me? I have put the three of us on a private link."

McCoy shook himself. "Sure, you're fine."

With Hendorff behind them, they started down the corridor with the purple flashing lights on the walls.

They walked for what must have been thirty minutes, with each step growing slower and slower as they had to make their way around or step over more brown, dusty piles of debris, some from the walls and some they couldn't identify.

"How much further?" McCoy asked Chekov as he squatted down by another pile of dry powder. As were the others he'd scanned, it was old. What concerned him was that there were more and more of the dusty piles along their corridor. There went from being a few here and there, to multiple mounds of it. Piles lined up alongside the edges of the floor and against the wall in a neat row. There was something about it that was making the hair on his neck stand on end.

"Very close," Chekov said. "We are almost there."

"Are the lights blinking faster?" Hendorff asked from behind them, phaser at the ready.

McCoy stood up and looked. "I think they are."

"You are correct," Chekov said, holding his tricorder up to the wall. "These are blinking a bit faster than the earlier ones."

"Blinking lights and more debris," McCoy muttered as Hendorff turned to continued down the hallway and Chekov stayed glued to his tricorder. "And no crew or passengers so far. This isn't good."

"You've got a feeling, Sir?" Hendorff asked from behind him.

"Yeah, but don't know why."

They kept moving forward and finally came to an opening. It was the same type of circle as the others, with the same three small circular indents on each side, but this one was slid halfway open. Clearly a door, and behind it darkness.

"I'll go in first," Hendorff said.

Hendorff slipped in through the opening with his visor light on. He was a big guy, and it was a tight squeeze. McCoy held his breath when Hendorff disappeared into the darkness. Then he caught sight of Hendorff's light as it swept quickly around the room. Suddenly, more lights came on inside.

"I'm okay," Hendorff said immediately. "I must have triggered a light switch. It's a large room. There's more of the glowing points on the walls. There seems to be a lot of shelves and some things that may be equipment. Nothing active or moving. I think it's safe to come in."

"I will go!" Chekov said excitedly. He squeezed through the door.

McCoy followed, pushing himself through the opening. He blinked as he looked around. The barely-seen flicker of the purple light out in the hall was repeated in strips of various length at the top of the room. There were wide shelves against the walls all the way around the room. The first sign of anything mechanical or useful was on those low shelves, along with crystal-like containers. The containers were scattered all over, whatever they held long gone. Off to the side were two large openings to two other rooms. Hendorff peeked into them, but didn't go in.

In the center of the room was a large, round table, with what looked to be some kind of multi-handled equipment on it, ringing the edges all the way around. The center was covered with a woven metallic divider, with some kind of withered vine on it. At the bottom of the various vines were more crystal containers. He walked forward to look over the nearest piece of equipment. It had six round, flat protrusions sticking up and six knobs, three on each side.

_Why does this look so familiar?_ McCoy wondered.  _I've seen this somewhere before._

Chekov walked excitedly from one shelf to another, behind him, scanning and recording everything.

Hendorff, hand on his phaser, stood back to watch. "The Captain's asking for a report," Hendorff said, tilting his head as he listened.

"Give him all the info you have," McCoy said with a distracted nod. "Tell him we haven't found any life so far."

Hendorff nodded and McCoy went back to studying the table.

Stepping back, bringing up his own tricorder to scan the array of items before him, McCoy found he was getting a multitude of readings. There was a muddle of chemicals here, all dried and some evaporated into lumpy stickiness. Some were organic compounds. Some were acids. A few even close to bleach.

"These piles of matter," Chekov said behind him as he scanned another shelf along the wall. "Ees very interesting and very much like the piles outside in the corridor. But they seem to have been connected to the wall."

"Let's check these other two rooms," McCoy said, walking over to peer into one. There were more low shelves against the wall. More piles of dust. There were some designs on the wall that looked like drawings of some kind.

"I will scan those rooms as well," Chekov said, turning to follow McCoy.

McCoy took a couple of steps into the room. As soon as his foot hit the floor on the second one, the purple strips on the walls began to flash in unison.

"Wait! Stay back!" McCoy ordered, holding up a hand to keep Chekov from coming inside. "I've tripped something!"

"Doctor?" Hendorff said, striding forward, phaser out.

"No! Don't move!" McCoy ordered, looking around the room as the purple lights continued to flash. A harsh buzzing sound filled the air. "Don't come in!"

Hendorff stood next to Chekov, just outside the room.

Carefully, McCoy moved further to the back of the room, toward one of the drawings that seemed etched into the wall itself. There was something there, something that niggled at him. It was dusty and he ran a finger over a few of the grooves, clearing off a couple of lines hidden under the dirt.

_No! It's not... shit!_

Suddenly, his heart leaped as it all came to him. He turned and yelled at Chekov and Hendorff.

"Get out! Get back to the shuttle! We need to leave! Now!"

Hendorff immediately stepped back and grabbed Chekov's arm. Chekov looked shocked and didn't move.

"Doktor?"

"Hendorff, get him out of here! That's an order!" McCoy fumbled at his visor and watched as Hendorff pulled Chekov forcefully away. He hit the switch that would connect his comm to Jim's.

"Jim! We have to get out!" McCoy said, walking toward the main room as Hendorff practically shoved Chekov through the narrow corridor exit.

"On the way! Report!" Jim ordered.

" _Plague!_  This is a  _plague_ ship and we've found the MedBay, labs and isolation ward," McCoy said as he neared the doorway. "Those are  _bodies_  in the corridors, Jim. Trying to make their way here."

"We'll meet you at the shuttle. Ditch the samples of anything we've picked up."

"We'll need to do more than--"

When McCoy came within one step of the doorway, a bright flash of yellow light hit him like a wall. Stunned, he stumbled and fell to the floor. Then a bright wash of heat flooded over him as some kind of yellow liquid was sprayed at him from somewhere in the ceiling. The force pushed him flat to the floor and he could see the yellow liquid covering his faceplate completely, making him feel like he was trapped in some sort of thick glue.

"Bones?! Doctor McCoy?"

Before McCoy could answer Jim continued.

"Hendorff? Do you have eyes on him?"

"No!" McCoy said as he tried to push himself up. "They have to  _stay_  in the corridor. I've been sprayed with something." McCoy tried to wipe the yellow liquid, now a thick goo, off of his visor. "I think it's for decontamination purposes."

"Can you get to the corridor? Shit!" Jim's voice went grim. "Bones,  _hold on_."

In the sudden silence, McCoy heard a sharp 'ping'. A tiny crack appeared in the center of his visor.

" _Damn_ it!" McCoy swore, trying to stand up in the slippery mess. He wiped at the goo on his arms, the weight of it over his body feeling heavy as it started to solidify. He couldn't see where he was going, so didn't dare take a step one way or another.

_I don't dare touch my visor! The air is breathable, but just barely. Besides the fact that whatever hit this ship might have been airborne and still alive somehow. Some of those viruses and classes of bacteria could hibernate forever in the right climate._

"Doktor!" Chekov said through the comm. "We can come in and get you!"

" _No one_  is coming back through that door," McCoy said roughly as he tried to squeegee the goo off with his hands. "That's an order Ensign Chekov. You disobey me, and I'll kick your ass all the way back to Earth and a Court Marshall."

The goo suddenly got harder, squeezing his body where it was thickest. Fearful, McCoy tried to wipe gently at his visor, but the clinking sound of breaking material told him it was no use. With a crack, the inside of his visor went white and opaque with a checkerboard pattern. Then with a clunk and the sound of grinding, the once-clear visor plate broke around the edges and fell to the floor, hitting it with thick and sticky plops as the bits landed in more goo.

McCoy tried to hold his breath but pitched forward as the rest of the yellow material hardened around him, then broke off.

He gulped the thick, stinging air and tried to crawl back into the main room. But there was now some sort of invisible force field covering the entrance. Beyond that, at the other end of the purple colored lights, McCoy could see that the corridor door had slid shut behind Chekov and Hendorff.

"Isolation. I  _knew_  it," McCoy muttered, taking a big breath, and trying not to gag as the stink of the room filled his lungs. He sat, trying to break the rest of the hard jell off of his suit.

The sound was tinny and muted, but he could hear Chekov's voice coming through what was left of the comm at the sides of his now open helmet.

"Doktor? Doktor?"

"Chekov? Can you hear me?"

"Yes!"

"My visor is broken, and I've lost the whole screen. I'm breathing in ship's air. If there's anything living in this atmosphere, it's now in me."

McCoy heard what must have been Russian cursing. "We can bring in some oxygen from the shuttle."

"Not through _that_ door you won't. Where's Jim?"

There was silence for a moment. Then a blast of sound as Jim's voice came through. It sounded even worse than Chekov's.

"We're trapped. The corridor door has slammed shut and we can't get it open. Phasers are completely dead. Chekov, is McCoy okay? Are you on the shuttle yet?"

"We're outside of the ship's MedBay," Chekov admitted. "We can come and--"

"Jim? Can you hear me?" McCoy broke in.

"Barely," Jim said, his voice soft at the edges from the broken speakers.

"Chekov? Get your ass to that shuttle!" McCoy ordered. "Jim? I'm compromised. My visor's gone and I'm breathing ship's air. Don't let any yellow goo get to you, because it's breaking my suit down. I'm trapped in this room."

"We're out in the corridor," Hendorff said grimly, his voice clearer than Jim's. "Orders Captain?"

"Get back to the shuttle and we'll make plans from there," Jim's voice was grim. "Bones, you can breathe okay?"

"Not running any marathons," McCoy said with a humorless laugh. "And it stinks like hell. I'll survive. But I can't come back on board the shuttle at this point. You can't dock to the Enterprise with me on it."

"You're sure it's a plague ship?"

McCoy broke off the last of the goo from his fingertips and with it the thin padding of the gloves over the pads of his fingers and palms.

"Well, fuck," he said tiredly, taking his gloves off altogether. The goo didn't seem to be hurting his skin any, but there seemed to be something in the suit material it didn't like.

_Watch, I'll soon be sitting in this yellow goo in my birthday suit. What the hell were they trying to kill off?_

"What? What's wrong?" Jim asked tensely.

"Total compromise. Suit's falling off me," McCoy replied.

The silence between them was heavy. Then Jim's voice came through, with that little bit of hope he always saved for a rainy day. "Bones? How do you  _know_ \--"

"All the signs of a plague ship," McCoy said with a sigh. "Damned blind that I didn't see it before. Some of those debris piles? One I saw down the corridor that was spread out. Main trunk, six limbs, three on a side. Round doors with six circles? Three on each side? The people on the ship had round trunks, like trees. Three limbs on each side. Those circles on each side of a door? Betcha an ungodly amount of credits that those are door locks. Only they use all six palm prints to open their doors, where we only use one."

McCoy looked into the other room, getting used to the purple glow. "Low shelves in this room with connections to the walls. Hospital beds and life support links. Test tubes all over. Residue of all kinds of compounds, including their form of bleach. Running medical tests with six-eyed microscopes. Saw a medical illustration on the wall. Circulatory fluid is colored purple. Flashing purple lights here, like our red ones on the Enterprise. Like on Earth because we have red blood and use the color for the sign of ' _danger_ '. Green blood, green Emergency lights for Vulcans. Examples through the whole damned Federation and I missed it."

"That sounds pretty definitive," Jim said grimly

"As I said, I felt something was wrong. I'm just  _that_ blind."

"Hardly," Jim said, annoyance in his voice. "But I'm sure you're right. I think that the moment you set off their decontamination procedure we got locked in."

"Isolate the bridge. Protect the command crew. Any bodies there?"

Jim's voice was grim. "One"

"Then it didn't work." McCoy sighed. "Captain went down with his ship."

"Next step?" Jim asked tightly.

McCoy shrugged, looking at his fingertips. They looked wrong in the purple light.

"Medical Order 72," McCoy answered, knowing that Jim knew all this as well as he did. "Everyone suited gets off this ship and into the shuttle. Decontamination procedures and tests while in the shuttle, in suits, no docking with the Enterprise and they _live_ in those suits until told otherwise."

McCoy tried to turn on his visor light. Only one side worked. He aimed it at his fingers.

"When and  _if_  the CMO okays it," McCoy continued, "they can be beamed aboard the ship using every bio-filter we have or can download. Destroy the shuttle or open it to space for a day or two. If all the suit's seals hold, but inside the shuttle doesn't test clean, then Medical Order 73. The crew hits space in their suits, the Enterprise blasts them with T-50 radiation and hopes they can beam them aboard and into isolation before their suits disintegrate completely. Thirty-second rule for survival in open space. Once again, sterilize or destroy the shuttle. But that's  _only_ if the crew  _isn't_  physically compromised. That their suits are kept secure. You all may be in that shuttle for a while."

McCoy tried not to think of Jim floating out in space, hit with T-50 radiation and his suit disengaging around him as the Enterprise tried to beam him back on in time without it. As a last-ditch effort not to bring contamination on board, it sucked.

“And when we get  _you_  out?” Jim asked.

_If I survive this, you mean? No telling how long something alien to take to adapt to my physiology. Or could be this smell kills me first._

“Don’t have a suit, so a spacewalk won't work to cure any contagion, that's for damned sure. I get to stay on a shuttle for a while, until I’m either clean enough to take a chance on beaming up to isolation, am towed back to some Federation facility that could handle something nasty, or…”

He didn’t say ‘ _dead_ ’, but knew Jim heard it anyway. In that case, his body would be destroyed, along with the shuttle.

“We’ll get you the best shuttle we have,” Jim promised. “All the medical equipment we can fit inside it. Beam in anything you need once you get to work on this. Just don’t go anywhere.”

_Don't die, he means._

“Don’t plan on it.”

_Don't ever plan on it, but whoever gets asked first? Death just happens, no matter what you plan._

“Keptain? We are at the shuttle,” Chekov broke in.

“Get into space, send the Enterprise all the information we have. Advise Acting Captain Sulu of our situation and tell him Medical Order 72 is in effect.”

“Aye, Keptain. We will get you out!”

“ _No more crew._  Chekov, tell Sulu that's an order. I don't want anyone else trapped in here. I don't know if we've set off any other security measures the ship may have running. On your way out, play a relay loop so we’ll both know when you get far enough away to lose contact through this ship's shields.”

“Aye, sir.”

McCoy could hear the heartbeat-like background sound that would tell them when they lost contact with the shuttle.

“Doctor,” Spock said. “Can you describe your area? Can you scan the medical illustration on the wall?”

“Think you can interpret the language?”

“Any information at this time would be of help,” Spock replied.

"We'll get you what you need," Jim said with confidence.

_Hard to do that, if you're trapped yourself. And I don't even **know** what I need._

"On my way," McCoy said instead.

McCoy rose carefully to go back to the wall behind him. As he reached for his tricorder, trying not to gag from a fresh whiff of something nasty in the air, he noticed his fingertips once again.

They were now slightly black under the skin.

 

***

 

"Enterprise! This ees the Zandrake," Chekov announced through his visor and over the shuttle's comm. Because of the medical protocol, neither he, Hendorff or T'Kesh would unseal their suits or bother re-oxygenating the shuttle once they vented the alien atmosphere. "We are now free of the  _Goliath_. Do you read?"

"We read you, Zandrake," Sulu said with concern. "We lost all contact with you once the team entered the  _Goliath_. What's happened?"

Chekov described the situation, including the Captain's order denying any more crewman boarding the  _Goliath_.

"I've got Doctor M'Benga looking into the medical situation now," Sulu said. "If we can't send in more crewmen and we can't beam anything onto the ship, then we'll send one of our drones to the dock."

"I've got just the one," Scotty's voice came over the comm. "It's a spider-drone with a laser on it that'll burn through just about anything. We can remote control it through the corridors--"

"The signal would be cut off once it gets inside the  _Goliath_ 's shields," Chekov reminded them, hundreds of details about the drone flashing through his mind. "We can't get it to them if we can't get a signal far enough in to control it. It may barely get to Doktor McCoy if we can send a boosted signal from the shuttle. But I'm not sure it will be strong enough to reach the Keptain and Mr. Spock."

"Aye," Scotty said, agreeing reluctantly. "That's going to be a problem. We can program the drone to handle various situations, but it could be dangerous if it's not supervised. We'd never know what went wrong if everything should go to hell and it wander around that ship forever."

Of all the scenarios running through Chekov's mind, something kept circling back and begging for attention.

The gamepod.

"Wait!" Chekov said excitedly. "I have an idea! The Enterprise's signal can only go to the dock. We could control it from this shuttle and get the drone further inside, but still... loss of signal. But, Doktor McCoy is further in. If we can hook up a signal from all three locations, the Enterprise, the shuttle and where the Doktor is  _then_ we should be able to remotely control the spider-drone far enough into  _Goliath_  to get to them. It can burn a hole in the wall, to the corridor, so the Keptain and Mr. Spock can escape."

"The game-suits!" Scotty said excitedly. "Chekov, that's  _brilliant!_ We wouldn't need the gamepods themselves since we wouldn't be creating a scenario for the suits to recreate. We just need the suits with some way to boost their signal--"

"Wait! What are you talking about?" Sulu asked, sounding very confused.

"I can explain," Uhura's voice came over the comm.

Chekov listened as Uhura and Scotty explained what they'd been doing with the gamepods and the suits. And who the Assassin really was.

"That was you  _three_?" Sulu asked in surprise. "And you think that the three of you could run the drone inside that ship, from three separate locations?"

"Yes!" Chekov replied confidently. "Uhura can connect from the Enterprise, I can get a shuttle close to the  _Goliath_ and we can then, most probably, get the drone to Doktor McCoy. If Mr. Scott can affix a power supply to Doktor McCoy's game-suit and we get it to him, then we can piggyback our signals. With the three of us, the connection should be strong enough to keep contact with the drone for quite a distance."

"You'd have to take off your environmental suit to put the game-suit on," Scotty warned. "If you're carrying anything contagious inside your shuttle, you'll be exposing yourself."

"Unless Doctor M'Benga can give them a clean bill of health," Sulu said. "Then it won't matter if he takes his environmental suit off or not."

"Getting a medical diagnosis may take a while," Scotty said worriedly. "We don't know how long we've got to do this."

"Yes, I know," Chekov said. "But if you send out an unmanned shuttle with my game-suit, I can then go into space. You use the T-50 ray on me and transport me to  _that_ shuttle when I am decontaminated."

"Pavel," Sulu said gravely. "You  _know_ that's the last call method in these situations. Your suit should protect you from the beam before it falls apart. But if there's a weak spot..."

_Then I will be severely damaged, if not dead,_ Chekov thought.  _Or, the suit could fall apart so quickly that I may not survive space long enough to be transported to the shuttle. Always **something**..._

"I will take that chance," Chekov announced with confidence. "It may come to that anyway, if Doktor M'Benga says that the risk of contamination ees too great."

"And you three can  _really_  control the drone between you?" Sulu asked once again.

"I believe we can," Uhura said.

"I do too," Chekov added.

"They've had the practice," Scotty said. "Shouldn't be a problem. I don't think. Probably."

"Then let's do this," Sulu said. "Stay ready, Chekov. We'll get a shuttle loaded with your game-suit. Then another with the drone and the suit for Doctor McCoy that we'll dock with the  _Goliath_. That one the Captain and Mr. Spock can be evacuated in. And a third for Doctor McCoy, outfitted with a portable Medlab. You're all at different levels of possible contamination."

"We got 'em," Scotty said. "Might as well use 'em."

"Stand by, Chekov," Sulu ordered.

"Standing by," Chekov said with a sigh.

Chekov closed the connection and turned around in his chair. Through their suit visors, he found Hendorff and T'Kesh watching him with surprise. They'd heard the plans as well as those on the bridge.

"May I say something, Ensign Chekov?" Hendorff asked.

"Absolutely," Chekov replied, suddenly curious.

"Next time there's a team forming up, I want to be on  _yours_ ," Hendorff said.

"Me too," T'Kesh said, raising his hand.

Chekov smiled at them through his faceplate.

 

***

 

McCoy sat on the floor in the alien isolation room and leaned on the one bit of clear wall he could find. He could have wiped the remains of an ancient crewman off of what was now clearly a biobed, but he didn't have the heart to disturb them. Now that he knew all the piles of brown, dried matter he'd stepped over on his way here were dead crewmen of the  _Goliath_ , he felt kind of bad about it.

_That could be the Enterprise, one day. We could be off exploring, find some kind of deadly microbe we could never be prepared for and get wiped out. Floating forever into the black. Maybe even into a sun someday, if no one out there runs across us. Maybe spread the virus on to more innocents._

_Yet, what can we do? Never go out again? Never explore? Don't see that ever happening. And even if we sat on Earth and pulled the covers over our heads, someone else would come for a visit and still wipe us out. Intentional or not. Heck, the Vulcans could have done the job, and never have meant to._

_Jim's right. We all die, even if we just sit at home and wait for it._

McCoy was tired and knew he was getting punchy from the stink around him. The fact that his environmental suit had fallen apart, taking with it his clean water supply and built-in urine filtering system, didn't help. There was nothing like a liquid dispenser in this room he could see, and he wouldn't trust it if he did. Water was pretty universal between the species McCoy knew about, but that didn't mean this one didn't like a good dash of arsenic to spice up their beverages. At least he still had most of his helmet intact, along with the comm system. Luckily most of those electronics were at the back of the helmet. But he didn't know where the power came from, or how long it would last.

Jim and Spock had let him listen in on their efforts to find a way out of the command center, if that's what it was. From Jim's description, it sounded like the MedBay, only with a thousand more colored lights, all going on and off in various patterns around the wall. There was only a low table in the center, with a pile of debris on it. And nothing else to interact with. Nothing to even give them a hint of where to start.

Spock was good, but he still had to have something to work with. Not having six limbs or eyes was a huge impairment to work around. And he could hear the strain in both Spock's and Jim's voices as they tried one thing after another.

"Bones? Still there?" Jim's voice was low.

"Yep. Nowhere to go."

"Spock thinks he's found a way to get the display to work. Something to do with the colored lights and a different visual spectrum. I don't know what it'll show. But any information is better than nothing at this point. I've cut him out of the comm loop for now, so we're private. How're you doing?"

McCoy sighed. He'd dreaded the question, as the response would vary depending on which Jim Kirk he was talking to. McCoy wanted to be positive and not worry his  _husband_. But he wanted the  _Captain_ to be fully informed. Talking to his  _friend_ , McCoy wanted to bitch and grouse about everything. Being all three people at once to McCoy could sometimes make James Kirk a complicated man to communicate with.

_He's got to be the Captain now. I have to be the Doctor._

McCoy held up his hand and examined it again. It wasn't just his fingers now, but his palms and feet. If he'd had a mirror, he'd bet his cheeks, his ears, and the tip of his nose was growing black as well.

"A bit dehydrated," McCoy said, "but I should be okay for a while. I don't dare sample anything in here to drink. But... Jim? Whatever it was, that killed them all, looks like it's found me."

Jim's voice was tight and clipped. "How? In what way?"

"Subdermal coloring along the veins, pronounced in my extremities," McCoy said, squinting at his fingers in the pulsing purple light. The color certainly didn't help anything. "Fingers, toes and... well... genitals. Suspect my nose and ears as well. Hard to tell in this light, but the veins look black, or nearly so. You remember that cadet that got really bad frostbite on one of the survival tests at the Academy? The vids they showed of what it looked like and how to avoid it?"

Jim bit off his reply. "Yes."

"So far, it looks black like that, only... under the surface."

Jim's voice was tight and sad. "Bones..."

"No pain or loss of feeling," McCoy said quickly. "It's not reacting or feeling like a burn or dead tissue. If my blood was black, it'd look like that. It's spread pretty quickly these last couple of hours. Pretty soon I'll look like one of those zombies in those ancient horror movies you like. Only, hopefully, without the craving for human brains and fewer open wounds."

"You'll  _cure_  it," Jim said forcefully. "We get you out of there, get you back in the MedBay--"

"Closest you're gonna get me to the MedBay is a  _shuttle_ ," McCoy interrupted. "By myself. For the duration. You  _know_  that."

"Then it'll be the best medically equipped shuttle we've ever stocked," Jim said. "You, M'Benga, the whole medical and lab teams will be working on this full time. When we get back to Federation space we'll find a research center somewhere that'll help tackle the job. We'll have you back on duty in no time. Bright side, you might get a research paper out of this. I love it when you publish. Love the fan mail you get."

"Glass half full, huh?"

"Damned right." Jim went quiet for a moment. "You're not lying about any pain, right?"

"No, I'm not. Just feeling thirsty and tired. I thought about going around and trying to find buttons to push, levers to move, but figured I'd just make things worse. If this is really an isolation room, it may decide to get rid of me rather than let me escape."

"No, you're right. Just sit tight. I--"

McCoy heard a scraping sound. It was faint, but in the near silence of the rooms around him it was noticeable. "Hold on. I'm hearing something."

Jim stayed quiet as McCoy pushed himself up and stood. More bits of his environmental suit flaked off as he moved to the doorway and the invisible line of the force field between him and the other room.

Then Chekov's voice, stronger than it had been from the shuttle, came through the comm. "Doktor? Can you hear me?"

"Yes! I can hear you. That's not you out there is it?"

"Chekov?" Jim asked in surprise. "You're not on this ship against orders, are you? I'm putting Spock on this loop."

"No, Keptain, I am in a shuttle, outside the  _Goliath_. We have sent a spider-drone in to burn through the walls and release you."

"Get  _them_  out first," McCoy said. "Get the Captain and--"

Jim tried to talk over him. " _No_ , get McCoy out and on a shuttle by himself and under--"

"Quiet,  _please!_ " Chekov interrupted with frustration. "There is a  _reason_  we must get to the Doktor first. We have a  _plan_."

"Report," Jim ordered stiffly.

"We have a spider-drone with a laser to burn through the walls in both locations, but it must be controlled from outside," Chekov began. "The Enterprise alone cannot keep a clear connection with the drone once it is inside the  _Goliath._ The shuttle can only connect to it as far as the room Doktor McCoy is trapped in. We must boost the signal. We will add the Doktor to the drone's link. Then with Uhura on the Enterprise relaying her signal to me, I will boost it from the shuttle at the dock and the Doktor's signal will be enough to let us operate it from inside the  _Goliath_ 's shields."

"So, it can make it all the way to Jim and Spock!" McCoy said.

"Yes. Well... theoretically," Chekov amended. "Doktor? Uhura and I have walked the drone to your location and it ees now burning a hole in the wall. When it arrives, you will find your game-suit has been modified by Mr. Scott to help power it and boost the signal. Once you put on your headset, we will be able to jointly control the drone, using the signal from the Keptain and Mr. Spock to track its way to them."

From his spot, McCoy could see a large, red hot, circular line form on the far wall. The drone was burning through to him.

"The Assassin!" McCoy said with a smile. "We just do the same thing we've been doing in the games!"

" _What_? What do you...?" Jim's voice trailed off. McCoy could almost hear the gears turning in his husband's head. " _You're_  the Assassin? The  _three_  of you?"

"Uhm..." Chekov faltered.

"Yes," McCoy said quickly. "That was us."

Jim's voice went from surprised to sort of put out. "You three were  _one_  avatar."

"Yup. No rules against it," McCoy added casually.

"And we were doing  _research_ ," Chekov added quickly.

"A very inventive adoption of the system, Doctor," Spock's voice came over the comm. "I would be interested in seeing any changes that have been made to the system that allows the incorporation of three different--"

" _Later_ , Spock," Jim said, still sounding a bit annoyed.

"The drone is almost through the first wall, Doktor."

McCoy watched as the red circle on the wall grew bright, then winked out. There was a loud clunking sound as the drone pulled the detached piece out of the wall and into the corridor. The hole was big enough for McCoy to crawl through, which the drone did a second later.

"It's through," McCoy announced. "Creepy as hell though. I'm glad you and Uhura are driving it."

The body of the drone was the size of a large dog, set on six metal spider legs. The 'head' was built into the body, so that it was streamlined, but with small half-circle sensors that ringed the body. McCoy knew it could see, hear, and scan 180 degrees around it and probably had sensors on the bottom as well. It came through the hole in the wall, pulling a large case behind it. Then it came next to the isolation room, which took it only a few seconds, it picked a spot on the wall next to the door that kept McCoy locked in.

"Starting the burn on the isolation room," Chekov announced. "You might want to step back, Doktor. It's very close to the opening, and the heat may trigger some sort of response from the room's security."

McCoy stepped to the back of the room, watching as the drone cut another hole in the wall.

"Almost in!" McCoy announced when he saw the tell-tale red circle of melted material form on his side.

It didn't take very long before the drone pulled the circle of wall away and backed off. McCoy, on hands and knees, crawled out of the isolation room and into the larger one. He reached for the case and opened it. Inside was his game-suit, hood, visor and a large piece of unknown equipment McCoy took to be the booster that made this possible. He started peeling off what was left of his environmental suit.

"I'll be offline for a minute, Jim," McCoy said before taking off his broken helmet. "I need to switch over."

"Understood," Jim said.

"We are now routing communications solely through the drone," Chekov announced.

McCoy tried to ignore the sight of his own limbs and torso as he pulled on the suit. The blackness was spreading up his arms and legs, and was showing in spots on his torso. He didn't dare check himself out under his briefs again. Once had been unsettling enough.

Once sealed into the suit, McCoy lay down on the floor and pulled his head covering on, lining up the game-suit visor and switched on the audio.

"Back online," McCoy announced.

"Welcome in, Doctor," Uhura said. "Can you hear me alright?"

"You sound wonderful, Uhura," McCoy said. "How's the connections?"

"Topping out at full strength now," Uhura said happily. "We should be all set."

"Are you in a safe place, Bones?" Jim's voice was a bit clearer than it had been before. The boost in the communication system was clearly helping.

"As safe as before," he answered. "No use going anywhere else."

"You can go to the empty shuttle at the dock," Jim said, trying to sound carefully neutral. "The one that brought the drone in."

"That's  _your_ ride, not mine," McCoy said. " _My_  final word as CMO, Captain."

"Noted," Jim said tightly.

"We have a nice shuttle M'Benga's setting up for you, Doctor," Uhura said brightly. "Everything medical Scotty and M'Benga can stuff on board."

"One moment, Doktor and we will connect you to the drone," Chekov announced.

"You know the drill, Len," Uhura said soothingly. "But you can't physically leave the room. If you do, I'll lose my connection with the drone and Chekov's connection will be too weak to be useful. Plus, your suit is feeding off the tweaked signals from the drone instead of a gamepod. The drone signals have a limit but looks like it should be enough to get all three of us to the Captain and Spock."

"I'm here for the duration, Darlin'," McCoy said

Chekov came back on. "Keptain, we will be off-line to everyone else. We need all the power and bandwidth for the drone and to track your location. Keep the comms open and we will follow the signal, but do not expect a response."

"Understood, Chekov. Comms on, going silent."

This time the connection was different. Instead of instantly being aware of Uhura and Chekov, it felt like his body was sliding slowly underwater. Thick and warm. Almost too much like the yellow goo he'd been covered with. He fought to stay calm.

_Not the disinfectant jell,_ he thought, trying to distract himself.  _Like a bathtub filled with Epson salts. Something warm and comforting._

The floating sensation was replaced by a strong feeling of claustrophobia. Then he could feel Uhura and Chekov beside him. They were different, but the same. His limbs felt weird.

When he opened his eyes he saw a panoramic view of the alien MedBay. His own body lying on the floor, arms crossed over his chest. He was much shorter now, and the room seemed gigantic from this point of view.

"Hey, guys," McCoy said with relief. He decided not to look at his own body. He didn't want to be distracted. Uhura and Chekov had seen him change into the game-suit, and neither one said anything about his condition.

That was a relief. They had job to do and he wanted to get it done.

"This will be a bit different, Len," Uhura said. "Chekov and I have been playing with this drone. He's been in control of the center two legs, the laser cutting and the steering. I've taken care of the outer legs and following your signal. But I think we may have to switch it up. I feel like I'm losing power to the legs."

"I think we should continue as before," Chekov said to Uhura. "The Doktor and I can work the legs and the steering. That would be the best use of our various signal strengths."

"Got it. Let's get started," she replied.

Suddenly the sensation in McCoy's legs changed. They felt wide, the front of his legs different then the back, with no sensation down the sides.

_Because I have four legs now, but only two physical ones. One step, two legs move. This is going to be fun._

"You will be the front two and back two legs, Doktor. I will be the middle two legs. The drone will not let us walk out of sync or trip. Just walk normally and I will match my step to yours and will steer."

McCoy took a step, then another. "Like this?"

He could see the first two and back two legs of the drone move as he did. The center legs moved in a counter-time that he could not feel.

"That'll work," Uhura said. "I've got their location. We should be ready."

McCoy watched as they stepped their way through the hole and into the corridor. It was huge now, and the light was brighter. The small lights on the wall almost like spotlights rather than dim stars. The walls glowed, slightly neon and the pebbly surface of the floor shone with various colors he hadn't seen before, like a picture he'd once seen of fish scales under sunlight.

_Is this the way the Goliath crew saw their ship? They were much taller than this drone, but maybe their visual capabilities were stronger. Covered more wavelengths._

Around them, the various piles of dry matter looked more organized, now that he'd learned what shape the crew had taken. He could see some of the shapes of limbs and trunk. He wondered if some finer tendrils of dust were some sort of eye stalks.

_We may never know. It'd be nice to know what they were really like. In case we meet their relatives someday._

_And if I want to cure whatever this plague is._

In front of them, up in the air, a bright, golden line appeared. It hovered in the air, constantly varying in thickness all along its length.

"That's the tracking signal," Uhura said. "It may go through walls at times, so you'll have to find a way around."

"The high-tech version of the Yellow Brick Road," McCoy replied with an amused grin. "Let's go find the Wizard and Tinman."

Both Uhura and Chekov snickered. It helped to the cut the tension a bit.

McCoy didn't know how far they went or how long they followed that golden line in the air. It felt like a long time, but McCoy knew the drone was smaller and shorter, so they had to avoid some debris and jump over others. Not all was crew remains. Some were crumbed wall pieces, or warped flooring. They had to be careful and not get the drone caught on anything. McCoy tried to see all around him while guiding the main feet of the drone. Twice Uhura's golden tracer ran into a wall at a T-section. Scanning the floor with the drone's enhanced eyesight, they could see the faint and invisible-to-human-eyes print of Jim or Spock's environmental boots. That told them which direction to go.

They didn't talk much, each busy with their part of the drone. It was eerily quiet, which was scary in such a large ship. There should be a whole civilization's worth of beings on board. Traveling, working, living their lives. Maybe even having families and raising young.

_Where did they come from? What killed them? Something they picked up, or something they made that went wrong? Where were they going at such a slow speed? Spending hundreds of years at sublight to get any-damn-where?_

A thought struck him then.

_What if they're not all dead, but frozen in hibernation? And this is just the maintenance crew?_

_Will they all wake up, just to die?_

He felt bad for them. It made him even more aware of where he stepped. He couldn't be as slow or as careful as he'd like, but he could at least be respectful on his way to save his own people. As they moved further away from the alien MedBay, the bodies were found further and further apart.

"Almost there," Uhura announced. The bright, undulating rope of gold had gotten thinner and duller as they'd moved toward the center of the huge ship.

_She must be at the limit of her signal, even with the power boost from the drone._

He'd noticed as well that the extra sensation of the drone's legs overriding his own was also becoming less realistic, less powerful.

_Much further and I may lose contact. These rigged game-suits only had a short signal span to begin with. Scotty's a miracle worker to have boosted their range this much._

"There it is!" Uhura said happily, her voice almost too soft to hear.

McCoy could see the golden rope disappear behind a very large circular door. They couldn't have missed it once this close, as there were small flashing stars, in all sorts of colors, surrounding it.

_Must be their language. No speaker or sounds. With six optical organs, they may be all visually inclined. Looks like Jim and Spock's choice of control room locations hit the mark. This looks like an important room. Although maybe not the bridge, an important control center._

"I can't raise them," Uhura said. "Signals too weak from here."

"I'll try," McCoy said. "Chekov, you get that laser ready. Pick a spot." He mentally switched the survey team's comm back on. Handily, all it took was a thought. "Jim? Spock? We're back online and outside your door."

"Great!" Jim's relieved voice came strongly through the comm. "Thought you'd decided on the scenic route."

"Bitch, bitch, bitch, whenever you're  _not_  the one driving," McCoy replied, smiling.

"I have a spot picked out," Chekov said, sending a circle of light from the laser to mark the spot by the door he'd chosen.

"Guys? Chekov's got a spot picked out. Facing the door from your side, it'd be about two meters from the door to your right and about 10 centimeters from the floor. Anything in the way?"

"The site is clear on this side," Spock said. "We will move ourselves away from that area."

"You heard, Chekov?" McCoy said. "Good call."

"Da. I will count down."

McCoy echoed Chekov as he counted down from five to one, then started the laser.

McCoy counted every second. It took almost two whole minutes to cut through the wall. Then Chekov hit the center of the circle with a retractable arm and suction device and pulled the heavy circle out of the newly created hole. He held his breath as first Jim, then Spock, crawled through the opening. McCoy was glad to see that both men's suits looked intact.

"Let's go," Jim said, looking like a giant from the drone's point of view. "I want everyone out as soon as possible."

"Yes, Sir," McCoy replied. "Going off-line for the stroll back."

He mentally disconnected the comms again.

"Let's turn this buggy around, guys and get these two to their shuttle."

"Your turn next," Uhura promised.

"Counting on it," he replied as he and Chekov maneuvered the drone around and led the way to the shuttle home.

The walk to the docked shuttle seemed to take forever. But they finally got Spock and Jim to it. The three driving the drone watched as the dock closed behind the two, sealing them into the relative safety of the shuttle. McCoy didn't have to order Jim and Spock to take off without him, but McCoy could tell it was a near thing. Neither of them were happy about it, but it couldn't be help.

Jim and Spock were uncontaminated, and McCoy was damn sure they were going to stay that way.

Then he, Chekov and Uhura walked back to the alien MedBay and McCoy's body. There Uhura mentally unplugged him from the drone, while waiting outside in the corridor.

_They don't want me to see myself through the drone's eyes,_ McCoy thought with a sigh.  _I must really look like death._

_That's never good news._

But he still  _felt_ fine. On the way back Chekov announced that Sulu had remotely docked McCoy's isolation shuttle. So they made the last trip to the dock and his own personal, extra comfortable, medically outfitted shuttle as quickly as they could. Once reaching the shuttle, which was now under the Enterprise's control and would be towed alongside, the drone went dead. It would stay on the  _Goliath_.

Which left him alone on the shuttle, and more scared than he wanted to admit. But he was more than ready to work on finding out what he now carried inside him.

When he did look in a mirror, hours later and exhausted, he wished he hadn't. Every vein in his body was now black instead of the normal red or bluish tint of a healthy male of his skin coloring. Where the veins weren't black, his skin was now a dull, dead gray. The only color that was right on him now was the hazel of his eyes, the black of his hair, the threads of white that were showing up slowly at his temples, and his teeth. And even they were a tiny bit grayish where the enamel was thin enough to show some root.

McCoy couldn't decide which was the second worse, the black lips and the tip of his nose, or his jet black tongue and gums. The absolute worst was his own crotch. No man should see himself looking dead and half-rotted like that.

He took down the tiny mirror in the shuttle's 'fresher and swore that he would shower in the dark if he had to. It would work on his mind in bad ways if he didn't.

By then, all he could do was fall onto the uncomfortable bunk while the lab equipment that almost filled the shuttle completely hummed and flashed. Hundreds of tests were running simultaneously, and the results would be copied and sent back to the Enterprise and all it's medical resources the second they were finished. He didn't need to be awake for this first round.

Jim commed him to talk from the nearby shuttle, where he and Spock still waited in their sealed suits for M'Benga's permission to be beamed aboard the Enterprise.

McCoy refused the vid link, approving sound only. Jim didn't ask him why and he was grateful.

 

***

 

 

 

Jim Kirk lay back in the gamepod and took a big breath, held it, then let it out slowly. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for the simulation to kick in.

_I hope he's not too crowded now. I know Scotty said Bones would probably be crawling over equipment after we beamed the gamepod to him. But knowing Bones, he's probably not in the ship's bunk much anyway and it's folded up. Three days in that thing and he's going to run himself ragged running tests._

Jim and Spock had spent less than 12 hours in the other shuttle, trapped in their environmental suits before M'Benga had authorized them to be beamed aboard with the new additions to the bio-filters. M'Benga had had to be careful, because as comprehensive as people assumed the transporter's filters were, they weren't medical devices. There were just certain aspects of a living body that couldn't be screened or filtered and still have the person arrive alive, if not well.

And even with the transporter's filters, Jim, Spock, Hendorff and T'Kesh had spent their last three hours in 'open' shuttles. With all air vented, and the doors open to space, very few things could survive. They had then been transported to MedBay's isolation ward just in case, and had divested themselves of their suits after a chemical scrub down, then finally been okayed to leave isolation only a few hours ago.

Which meant they'd been able to avoid the last-ditch, full space, radiation sweep that Chekov had endured.

_Chekov may be shy at times, but he's nothing if not brave and adaptable. He endured a radiation wash, and a full-skin exposure to space, just to be able to put on a game-suit to help get Bones, Spock and I off that ship as quickly as possible. I'm going to find him a medal for that, even if I have to go back two-hundred years of Starfleet history to find him one._

_And now that the crew knows what he's capable of, maybe he won't feel so out of place anymore. If what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, people just meeting him have no idea how strong he actually is._

_I know he really impressed Hendorff and T'Kesh, and they're the best two security guards we have. Word will get around soon, if it hasn't already._

Chekov had blushed when Jim had pulled him aside and thanked him personally. Jim had kept it short and sweet, since he didn't want to make him uncomfortable. But he wanted Chekov to know how much he valued his contribution.

Uhura had gotten a hug just as soon as he saw her. He didn't even have to say his thanks out loud. He knew she understood completely.

With Bones still on the shuttle, towed along the Enterprise and waiting for one more clearance from M'Benga, it was time to put the gamepods to good use. Bones would be back on the Enterprise in several hours, but days of isolation would follow. With time to kill, Jim had found a way to fill it.

_Now, if Bones would just get hooked up..._

The world flickered as the game simulation kicked in. Suddenly his avatar was standing in a circular room, with the top half clear and a beautiful forest outside.

But what held his attention was Bones's avatar.

_Not even close to being as hot as he is in person. But better than voice-only contact._

"Jim?" Bones said, his avatar looking around the room and then at himself. "You didn't!"

The surprise on Bones's face wasn't quite as it should be, but Jim would take it.

Jim smiled as he walked to his husband. "Since we're just waiting now, thought we'd celebrate our anniversary and the good news all at once. One year married and you get to be beamed up to the isolation room in a few more hours. Our anniversary will be officially over by then, so we've just made it in time."

"Damned good thing too," Bones said happily as he walked to Jim and their avatars hugged. It wasn't the same as a real, in-person hug, but it would do for a few more days. Jim enjoyed the feeling of pressure and the sense of Bones in his arms. "I was going to go stir crazy in there. I mean, in  _here_. I mean..."

Bones broke off chuckling. "Now even I'm getting confused. Happy Anniversary, Kid."

"Happy Anniversary, Old Man," Jim said, hoping his voice could say what his avatar's eyes couldn't.

Bones sighed and took Jim's hand and pulled him over to the clear wall, looking at the simulated scenery. "You always know what to do to make me happy. I wish I was better at--"

"You're perfect," Jim interjected, putting his arm around Bones's shoulders as they looked out over the forest he'd tried to program to look like the view from their honeymoon on Deneva. "Don't change."

Bones huffed. "Wait and say that when you get a good look at me. In real life. This avatar isn't even close anymore."

"M'Benga said the black comes from a virus messing with your collagen, and that it'll wear off in a few days. And that blood vessels and arteries are reinforced by collagen, as well as all of it under our skin that keeps it pliant. So that's why all the black veining. It's supposed to wear off in a few weeks, right?"

"Yeah," Bones said with a sigh. "Harmless to all the species we  _know_  about. Which means the crew of the  _Goliath_  probably weren't part of the Seeder's project, and aren't related to most, if not all, of the DNA on this side of the galaxy. But it means no sex for a while."

"Oh?" Jim looked over at Bones with surprise, then concern. "M'Benga said you were otherwise fine! What did he not tell--"

" _Nothing_." Bones shrugged. "It's just... Jim, you remember on Mars, at that medical lecture when I teased you about your dick turning black and falling off one day? Well, black veins on a penis and other assorted vein heavy reproductive organs are just nasty looking. I don't even want to see  _mine_  that way again, let alone let  _you_  see it all."

Jim fought a strange mixture of surprise, consternation, concern, and amusement. "Oh... Uh... well... I guess I can understand..."

But as he talked it just grew funnier. He couldn't help it. He smiled and tried to choke back a laugh.

Bones's avatar turned and crossed its arms. The chiding look that came through wasn't even close to the real one Jim had memorized.

"You think that's  _funny_? Well, then get used to waiting for sex, 'cause I'm not having any with you until I know I look normal. You're  _not_ seeing me that way, get it?"

"Bones," Jim said, trying to be sympathetic and not amused. But it wasn't working. "You  _know_  I don't care about things like that. I don't care what you--"

" _Unappetizing_ ," Bones said with a frown. "I'm not putting you off sex with me because my dick is so... unappetizing. Unless you have a secret kink I don't know about for zombie dick, then--"

" _No_ , no. I understand," Jim said quickly. He had to admit, his mind was shying away from the image. "I'm willing to be without sex just as long as you are. We'll be fine until you give the all clear."

Bones signed and turned back toward the view. "Wasn't the way I'd hoped our first anniversary would play out."

"It has some good things going for it," Jim said with a grin. "We're both here, so to speak. I'm fine, you're going to be fine, and we will  _definitely_ have anniversary sex as soon as you're more... appetizing. We'll have an anniversary story no one else has --"

"Or wants," Bones muttered.

"In the  _meantime._ " Jim stood back and held out his hand. "Figured we'll practice for our 100th anniversary."

Jim pulled Bones with him, then sat on the edge of the round bed and moved to the center. Suddenly the light started to dim, on cue, and a very colorful sunset started to play through the artificial leaves of the trees around them. Fake, but as gorgeous as Jim, Spock and Scotty could make it.

"When we're too old and frail for sex," Jim said softly, "and just have each other to hold on to. When we'll talk, about the year we've just lived, our lives and family. Our hopes and dreams. Our fears and disappointments. All the wonderful memories we have together, and how blessed we've been with each other. Like we did  _before_ we started having sex."

Jim lay back on the bed and patted the space beside him. "Crawl in."

Bones's avatar looked strange for a moment, as if it couldn't decide whether to scowl, frown or look surprised.

But Jim knew what look it was trying to recreate and couldn't. He  _knew_  his husband.

"I _love_ you," Bones said thickly, his voice watery and full of the tears Bones wouldn't shed and that Jim couldn't see. Bones crawled to him and put his hand over Jim's heart. That he  _could_ feel, where a kiss he wouldn't. Jim knew what it was.

" _Never_ enough," Bones said, settling down beside Jim. "No matter how many years, it'll  _never_ be enough."

They held simulated hands, talked through the artificial sunset and most of the fabricated night while admiring the synthetic stars.

It was perfect, after all.

***

Epilogue

Five weeks later

***

 

 

Jim walked through the crowd at the door to the Galley, more than ready to get out of his game-suit. Next to him, in uniform, Bones was trying not to smirk.

"You can't be good at  _everything_ , Jim," Bones said casually as they made their way around off-duty groups and through the door to the corridor. "You gave it a good shot. That's all that matters, right?"

_Good shot? I stunk. I'm never making the Olympic teams now._

"Yeah, I know," Jim said with a sigh. "I guess Interspecies, Olympic Power Diving isn't my thing."

"On the other hand, you'd get a gold medal for that near-fatal belly flop on that last dive. And Chekov?" Bones shook his head with disbelief. "Even from the view screen he was amazing. That four-level, triple backflip with the--"

" _Amazing_ , I know," Jim said with sincere appreciation. "You should have seen it from  _inside_ the simulation. Pavel's got a natural feel for layered water bubbles and half gravity. I was certainly outclassed there. I just couldn't seem to get those flips right."

They strode down toward the nearest lift.

"That's because you're geared to land on your feet. Literally," Bones said with a grin. "Like a cat. You get to making those flips, and your brain keeps trying to get you right-side up."

" _You_  could try out for the Pseudo-Olympic team. I notice the Assassin has been missing lately. Frankly, I'd like a shot at getting some revenge for those ass arrows."

"Me in an  _Olympic_  team, pseudo or not?" Bones scrunched up his face. "Oh  _no_ , not even a simulated one. Not that fond of water, unless it's a hot tub, a shower, or a nice, clean ocean. Not even the unreal kind, where I can pretend to breathe it. I'm not exactly Olympic material to start with. I'll just watch. Besides, with Uhura busy leading teams in her own games, and me taking more self-defense training with Hendorff in real life, we've all been a bit too busy to get together in our off-hours."

Bones looked around. Seeing no one was close enough to overhear, he smiled evilly and leaned in to whisper. "I hear tell Chekov may inherit that red band one of these days. He sure seems awfully popular now."

"That, he does," Jim said with a smile. "Maybe now that he's not trying to flirt with everything that moves, everyone can see what a nice guy he is. They're attracted to him because he's more confident. He was acting so desperate for sex partners that it was probably putting a lot of people off.  _Told you_  he'd outgrow it."

They entered an empty lift as it opened.

Jim leaned over to elbow Bones's arm after the door closed. "Our little boy is growing up."

Bones grunted and looked at Jim with consternation. "Which means  _we're_ not getting any younger."

"Speak for yourself, Doctor," Jim said with a smirk. "I'm  _absolutely_ as young as I feel. All I have to do is compare myself to you."

Jim glanced over and smiled evilly at Bones's unamused glare.

_How much difference a few weeks make. He looks so much better now,_ Jim thought.  _Love that bit of grey he's got coming in on his temples. Suits him._

Most of the blackness from the stained collagen was gone, but Bones did have some slightly zombie-ish patches here and there. In those places his skin, and some few veins, still looked a bit dead.

Jim was still a bit ashamed at his first response on seeing Bones in isolation. Bones had kept himself covered once Jim had gotten a full look at him through the window after Bones had been beamed aboard sans clothing. Jim's thrill at having his husband on board, and in good health, had taken a surprise blow at the sight. Even though Bones was actually healthy, the sight of Bones looking dead and decomposed had staggered Jim. He'd had to take a breath and turn away for a moment, shaken.  _Unappetizing_  hadn't even begin to cover Jim's uncontrollable reaction. He'd almost panicked at the sight.

Humans were such visual beings that some sights were just too primally horrific and hard-hitting to prepare for. Especially when it was someone you loved.

Bones had understood and kept himself covered until they could hold each other in private, in the dark, a few days later. Jim had tried to apologize, but Bones wasn't having it. He understood completely and hated it even more than Jim did. Thankfully, they'd found early on that those high-flow, blood saturated organs tended to clean up first. The treatment Bones and M'Benga had developed helped speed up the process of flushing out the black. They didn't talk about Bones jerking off in the 'fresher as often as humanly possible so that he'd clean up nice for Jim. Jim had helped with that at night, in the warm, comfortable darkness of their bedroom, as often as he could get Bones to respond.

Jim had appreciated Bones thinking about the way Jim saw him. Bones didn't want Jim to ever have flashbacks of him looking dead and rotted, and Jim understood that. It had taken a few weeks before Bones would let Jim see him naked again. If Bones had been sick, nothing would have kept Jim away. Since Bones was otherwise healthy, but was uncomfortable with the way he looked, they'd just worked around it.

Now, their sex life was back on track, and was more playful, relaxed and thoughtful than what had come to feel like a planned medical procedure.

_Maybe that's why I messed up those dives. Too much sex on the brain. They used to tell athletes it drained their energy and to avoid it the night before a Big Game. Even that it drained their life force,_ Jim remembered. 

_O_ _h, well. I'd rather get nailed to the bed so hard I can't walk than nail the perfect dive anyway._

Jim sighed as their cabin door finally closed behind them and started removing the game-suit. It really  _was_  uncomfortable to move in. No one seem to have any ideas on how to fix that so far, but then again, clothing and fibers weren't something anyone on board had any expertise in. That, and the fact Starfleet was ignoring the various hints that maybe a  _full body_  sensor array would be a bit more interesting to some crewmen, kept people from wearing them too long.

Chekov and his shipboard playmates, whoever they were, were going to be disappointed over that missing aspect of gameplay for a while longer it seemed.

The wall comm chimed the low, pleasant sound of nothing really life-threateningly important coming in. Jim relaxed.

"Kirk here."

"Captain," Spock said, "We have just gotten word that the  _Treamore_  and its convoy will be here in fourteen days. They're equipped with several dozen of the re-designed game-suits, which are now designated as  _Remote Group Survey Gear_ , for further exploration of the  _Goliath_."

"Got a new name, huh?" Bones asked. "I guess that means they found Scotty's, Chekov's, and your design tweaks helpful. And now Starfleet has a new toy."

"Indeed, they did, Doctor. With the new hub design to boost the signals under the  _Goliath_ 's shields, the  _Treamore_  will be well equipped to do more exploration inside the ship."

Jim nodded. The Enterprise had made many more trips inside the huge ship, in drone form only. They'd started by dropping a signal booster in various locations and taking a data crystal full of pictures and scan of every inch of the first section of hallways and rooms. Especially the alien MedBay and all the remains in between. Enough to keep a whole lot of Starfleet scientists busy for a while, but barely even a scratch on the  _Goliath's_  surface. The  _Treamore_  would follow up and stay with the ship, probably for years, with regularly scheduled crew changes. By the time the Orions even knew it was headed their way and would skim their territory, Starfleet wanted to know everything there was to know about the empty ship. That gave the Federation a few years head start.

"I thought you all discovered that the ship's crew, or passengers, are all dead," Bones said with a shake of his head. He sounded a bit sad. "No survivors in cryogenics. No embryos tucked away for future colonization. No warp drive, no compatible computer technology, no weapons... Just a big, slowly moving, empty house. What do they think Starfleet's going to find over the next ten years?"

"Information, for its own sake, is an honorable endeavor, Doctor," Spock replied. "There may yet be technology that we would find very useful."

"Maybe someone will come looking for them," Jim said, tossing his suit on the couch and pulling the robe back on. "It'd be nice to talk to their people, tell them what happened. Family they've left behind. I'm guessing someone,  _somewhere_  cares. Even after the half a million Standard years minimum we think it's been traveling, we could run across a search team someday."

"Yeah, you're right," Bones said with a frown as he went to their vidscreen. Jim could see a light blinking, telling them they had video mail. "But I'll be glad when we get to move on. I know everyone's been excited over all this newness. Seeing that huge ship outside the viewports still gives me the creeps. I keep expecting it to wake up and swat us like a gnat."

"Spock?" Kirk asked. "Make sure we feed the  _Teamore_  every bit of data we've been able to gather and live stream it as we pull it off the  _Goliath_. I'd like to move on myself, and want them up-to-date at all times."

"Yes, Captain."

"Keep me informed. Kirk out."

"Jim? It's a vid from Sam and Aurelian," Bones said happily.

"Yeah? Great!"

Jim threw himself down on the couch and waited for Bones to join him. This far out, the message was recorded. A vid was always a lot more fun than voice-only, but that meant it was a lot shorter than the other forms of communication they had.

As soon as Bones joined him on the couch, Jim started it.

"Hey, Jim! Len!"

Sam Kirk's smiling face appeared next to Aurelian on the screen. They were sitting on their couch, at home.

"Really hope this finds you both  _well_ ," Sam said happily. "We know you're out for some long-term assignments now, and will be out of contact more often. We all miss you, so keep sending the texts when you can. And I know this can't be very long, but Aurelian and I have some news we wanted you to get as soon as possible."

Sam looked at Aurelian, who smiled and seemed to blush a little.

"Jim? Len?" Aurelian began. "Around November 27th this year, you're both going to be uncles again."

"We're expecting!" Sam added excitedly.

" _Yes!_ " Jim exclaimed while Bones whooped happily beside him.

"This time, we gave in and asked... and it's a  _girl_ ," Sam said, his smile growing. "With Robby now a year old, we got to talking and... well... decided we'd rather not wait so long between kids this time."

"We don't know that we'll be doing this again," Aurelian said with a smile. "We thought we'd be done at two, but... well... guess not!"

"So," Sam continued, "if you guys could find yourselves some free time in seven months or so, we want you both to come and see the new baby. Maybe even be here when she's born. And we'd like your blessing, if it's okay..." Sam looked a bit concerned now, and stalled.

Aurelian, seeing it, took Sam's hand. "We'd like to name her after our mothers. We'd like to name her  _Winona Armana Kirk_. If that's okay with you. We know that it's not been all that long since you and Sam lost her. And maybe this is too early."

Stunned, Jim drew a deep breath.

"And I don't know how you feel, Jim," Sam said, suddenly serious. "I got Dad's name, so maybe you deserve to use Mom's for your own kid. We don't mean to take anything away from you two. So, we wanted to ask first."

"Just let us know," Aurelian said with a sympathetic smile. "If you want to save it for your daughter, someday, that's fine. We have plenty of time to think of another first name for our girl, and still use my mother's for her middle name. My mother's more comfortable with that than having the baby named directly after her. We don't usually name children after living relatives."

"Jim?" Sam's face told Jim how sincere he was. " _Honestly,_  it's fine. Either way. Just let us know."

They could see Aurelian look at something over the camera lenses and then squeeze Sam's hand.

"Time's over," Sam said regretfully. "Have to go. Love you guys. Keep each other safe. All three of my kids need their uncles."

The vid winked out.

"Wow," Jim said, feeling overwhelmed at the news. "That's  _great!_  And a  _girl!"_

"She's gonna have your brother wrapped around her little finger," Bones said with a grin, dimples showing. "And I expect these two uncles as well. How do you feel about it?"

"About using Mom's name?" Jim asked.

_How do I feel?_

He'd had a few tough weeks after his mother's death hit him. She was still on his mind. Even during their anniversary, part of him wondered if she would have finally been happy for him. If she'd actually have started to realize Jim was in this for life. But to hear her name used all the time? Used for someone else? Someone who'd never know the Winona Marie Williams Kirk that she was named for?

"I like it," Jim said quietly. He looked at Bones. "I really  _like_  it. Our kids... well...I'd like to pick out new names for them if they're still young enough to be named. Give them a fresh start. But I do like the idea of someone carrying Mom's name. What do you think?"

"Me?" Bones smiled as he shook his head, taking Jim's hand in the same way Aurelian had taken Sam's. "I'm  _great_  with it. It may be quite a while before we retire and adopt. Let's all remember your mom  _this_  way. It's a  _good_ way."

Jim leaned over and kissed him.

_Yes , it is._

_A very, **very**  good way._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thanks to my Beta! They've been a great help with dialog, plot, and a lot of words I can't spell. Any mistakes are all mine, because I fuss with it after all the Beta's hard work. 
> 
> This story was inspired by my Occulus Go, and some of the absolutely beautiful Virtual Reality games I've been playing on it. While not a holodeck, if was fun to try to imagine what an in-between step would be from here to there.


End file.
